The Way Back
by CheerfulChemist
Summary: This is an AU story; my version of how the threads from the cliffhanger in Freefall come together. It explains what happened to Bradford and the consequences. It also deals with John's attitude toward Jessica, and the outcome of the rookie exam.
1. Chapter 1

The Way Back

Chapter 1

Tim Bradford is frustrated. He understands everything that people say to him; he just can't speak. The doctor from the CDC explained what she thinks happened. Getting his head bashed in by a chair typically would not have caused as much damage as Tim suffered to his brain, but combined with the weakened but still live virus in the vaccine, he suffered a bleed. A neurosurgeon was able to seal it off, but it affected his speech. He can't write either. He can nod and point to pictures of what he wants, which activates a speech synthesizer, but that's about it.

The neurologist who visited him in the hospital said there was a chance that with therapy, his brain would rewire enough so that he could speak again, but it would take time and a lot of work. That's why he's in rehab.

At least the staff there doesn't give him the sympathetic smiles he gets from Lucy. They're all about the work. He wouldn't have expected it, but John Nolan doesn't have pity in his eyes either, just determination. After declaring that he knows that Tim will find his voice, he's shown up every few days with news from Mid-Wilshire - explaining that he's going to keep Tim in the loop.

* * *

Grabbing her purse to go home, Nell Forrester turns around as John Nolan knocks on the door of dispatch. "Ms. Forrester, can I speak to you for a minute?"

Nell Shrugs. "I was just about to leave, but you can walk me out, Officer Nolan. What can I do for you?"

"For me, nothing," John explains, as he accompanies her through the station. "But I think you might be able to help Tim Bradford."

"How? I let Tim cry in his beer with me, over what happened with his wife, but I'm no therapist. If anyone is good at that kind of thing, it's your friend Chen."

"Lucy tried, but I believe Tim resents seeming helpless in front of his boot. You're not a cop, but you're a colleague, from all appearance, one he likes. I've been bringing him news from the job, arrests, Grey's rants, that kind of stuff. But as a dispatcher, you know everything that goes on. If you tell him about it, he'll feel like he's still part of things, that he'll have something to come back to. After Isabel, being a cop is all he has. He needs to maintain that connection."

"You sound more like a therapist than Chen does, Nolan."

"It's just experience. I went through some bad times when I wasn't sure where I belonged. It's like being adrift at sea with your food and water running out and no land in sight. Tim needs to be able to see the shore, and I think you can show it to him better than any of us can - if you're willing.

Nell smiles, shaking her head. "Sure. Tim can be an underhanded sonofabitch sometimes, but he has a heart. I'll go visit him and see what happens."

John grins down at her. "That's all I'm asking."

* * *

John spies Ben looking out at the water from the lawn surrounding the guest house. "Considering going surfing?"

Ben holds up a hand. "No, thanks. I'm having a hard time believing in "'Catch a wave, and you're sitting on top of the world,' or 'Surf City' these days. But I was thinking about trying that new Indian place that just opened up. I could do with a good curry. You want to go?"

John lays a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Sorry, Buddy. The rookie exam's been rescheduled for tomorrow, and I've got to hit the books."

"I thought you knew that stuff inside and out."

"I did, but that was before, bioterrorism, Tim going down and…"

"Jessica?"

"Yeah," John admits. "Coming so soon after what happened to Captain Andersen, that really did a number on my head. I need to make sure I still have everything straight."

"I'll bring you back a doggy bag."

"Thanks. Enjoy your dinner, Ben. It's good to see you getting out there again."

"It's good to be getting out there again."

* * *

John presses his fists to his eyes. The spice in the meal Ben brought back for him was an infusion of energy for a while, but he's barely focusing now. He checks his watch. Midnight. He doesn't have to be at roll call in the morning. The test is scheduled for 11:00 am. He could get in a couple more hours of studying and still fit in enough sleep to be alert, but it might be better to do it the other way round and finish going over things in the morning.

There's nothing - or no one - to keep him from sleeping. He and Jessica have barely said a word to each other since she made her claim that Jimmy reached for a gun. That's just as well. At the review, he had to tell exactly what he saw, and it wasn't good for her. It wasn't great for him either. He wanted desperately to believe her, but after putting what happened together with her not warning him to keep Henry away from L.A., he couldn't deny his memory of what happened to himself, let alone the questioner from DHS. His bed is empty, but he's had an empty bed before, first with Sarah and then with Lucy. Right now it's better to concentrate on his job, and for that, doing the best he can on the exam will make all the difference.

* * *

To John, the room seems too large for Jackson, Lucy, and him, even if they are at separate tables. Every sound seems to echo, and the ticking of the clock on the wall is audible. Ben finally helped him get the hang of operating the espresso machine in the guest house, so he's awake - wide awake.

Most of the questions are things he'd carefully written on flashcards, much as he'd done for Henry when the boy was growing up. There are a few that he has to consider for a moment, but he spent so much time going over the Rookie manual - especially after he broke up with Lucy, that he can visualize the pages in his mind.

John's finished even before Grey calls time, and sits quietly going over his answers. But he always knew this would be the easy part. The oral exam with the Chief could be another matter entirely. After he stood up for Bishop, it was hard to tell if the chief respected him or decided to do his best to bounce him. He can only hope for the best.

Grey sends the rookies on a lunch break before their individual orals. Lucy and Jackson are picking at taco salads, and John doesn't feel much more enthusiastic about his burger. "I didn't finish," Jackson admits. "When I got to the part about procedures when shots are being fired, I kept seeing myself freeze. And I heard my father's voice in my head about being born to be a cop. I never had a chance to think about being anything else, and now I wonder if I should have."

Nolan reaches across the table, placing his hand on the young man's arm. "Jackson, you had your stumbles, we all did. At least Grey didn't put yours up on the screen at roll call. You learned how to do the job, as Lucy and I did. We were ready for the written we just took, and we're ready for the chief."

Lucy mashes the plastic dome back over her half-finished salad. "I wish I could have talked to Bradford - really talked. He put me through so much, but he was always there for me when it counted. And now he's…"

"He's going to get better," Nolan insists. "He's going to have more help, and he's going to make it back. I really believe that."

Lucy shakes her head. "John, I think you believe in the Easter Bunny."

"I only believed until I was six. And Henry believed until he was seven. Lucy, I've been through too much in my life - and in the last six months - to see things through rose-colored glasses. But I think if anyone can beat the odds, it's Bradford."

Grey appears in the door of the breakroom. "The chief is ready. Chen, you're up first."

John starts to reach for her hand but pulls back. That time is gone.


	2. Chapter 2

The Way Back

Chapter 2

"Do you think Grey will announce the results at roll call?" Nolan asks, fastening the last button on his uniform.

"I don't know," Jackson replies.

Lucy jabs an extra hairpin into the braid coiled at the back of her head. "I don't think he'd say anything in front of everyone if any of us failed."

"He's never thought twice about embarrassing us before," Nolan points out. "Especially not me."

Jackson checks his watch. "We have to go. The last thing we need is to be late."

The rookies slide into their accustomed front row seats, searching Grey's face for a sign. The room breaks into spontaneous applause as Grey announces, "Somehow Chen, Jackson, and Nolan have managed to fumble their way to passing grades on their six-month exam. I'll want to talk to the three of you, separately, in my office after we're finished here.

"Now, as you all are no doubt aware, we are in the midst of a presidential campaign. California's junior senator, who has chosen to run for higher office, will be holding a rally today at Griffith Park Observatory. That means traffic control and crowd control of both her supporters and whatever protesters show up. I will be assigning about half of you to that duty. Officer Wrigley, you will be taking point. I'm sorry if that interferes with your lunch plans. Bishop, Warren, Chu, Green, Morris, and Santiago will be maintaining regular patrols. Lopez and Bishop will remain as T.O.s for West and Nolan. Chen, I'm continuing your assignment to Santiago, until such time as Officer Bradford can resume his duties.

"If you've bothered to check the weather forecast for today, you'll know that we are expecting Santa Ana winds. That means that temperatures will rise and tempers along with them. So watch yourselves, especially on traffic stops and domestic abuse calls. Things can go bad very quickly. And don't let yourselves get dehydrated. We don't need any cops collapsing on duty. There are cases of water in the break room. I want at least six bottles in every shop. I'll be handing out additional information about your assignments. Now all of you, be careful out there."

* * *

Grey motions Lucy into his office first. "Officer Chen, you'll be getting an email with your official results, but your mark on your exam was neither the lowest nor the highest of the three of you. It was average for a passing grade. I suspect that you might have done better if you weren't concerned about Officer Bradford, but you need to put that at the back of your mind. It is possible that he will not be returning. I think you know that. Santiago is a good T.O. You pay attention to what she teaches you, and you may make it through the rest of your rookie year. I'd hate to see all of Bradford's work go to waste. That's all. Dismissed."

Grey waves Nolan in as Lucy leaves. "Officer Nolan, it escapes me as to how you managed to do it, but you scored the highest grade of all L.A.P.D. rookies. As far as I'm concerned, that doesn't change anything. You still don't have the stamina or the athletic ability of the younger officers. Bishop assures me that you've been able to compensate for that in other ways. You still have six months to go to convince me that's true.

"Going to the chief for Bishop was gutsy - probably stupid - but gutsy. I was considering separating the two of you. She's your teacher, not your pal. But you've done well with her, so unless I see something that convinces me otherwise, I'm going to let your partnership stand. So go load up your gear and get your shop out on the street."

After Nolan rushes away, Jackson swallows as he takes his place facing Grey. "I'm not going to sugarcoat this, Officer West. If you'd scored one point lower, you would have been back to square one, regardless of who your father is. If you're going to make it through the next six months, you're going to have to up your game - a lot. Do I make myself clear?"

Jackson rubs his palms against the wool of his pants. "Yes, Sir."

"Good. Then go join Lopez in reporting to Wrigley."

* * *

After loading a purse snatcher he chased down into the back seat of the shop, Nolan swipes at his forehead with his sleeve. Bishop hands him a bottle of water as he sinks into the driver's seat. "You OK, Boot?"

John gulps the liquid. "Whoever decided that rookies had to wear wool and long sleeves in this weather was a sadist."

Bishop reaches into an insulated bag at her feet and pulls out a couple of cold packs. "Here, stick these inside your uniform. I know a guy who fixes the wires for PG&E. The linemen use these when it's this hot, to keep from passing out and falling off the poles."

John draws a deep breath as he feels the coolness penetrating his undershirt to his skin. "Thanks. That helps. You're not going soft on me, are you Bishop?"

"Can't afford the time to scoop my boot up off the sidewalk. Let's get your suspect processed so we can get back out here."

* * *

Nell hesitantly enters Tim Bradford's room. "I thought you might like an update on what's going on. I don't know if anyone tells you about the weather in here, but it went up to 105 today. Some protestors attacked the crowd at a rally in Griffith Park, and I had to send every available unit we had to sort it out. I heard that the holding cells were packed. Oh, and Nolan nabbed a purse snatcher, and Santiago and Chen brought in a guy who was trying to lure kids into a van with a puppy. I wish they could have shot him - the pedophile not the puppy."

A smile tugs at Tim's lips. He can't remember the last time that happened.

"So Chen was trying to figure out what to do with the dog, and Grey took it home with him. Can you believe that? Warren said he thought it looked like one Grey's kids brought to the station when they were little. Maybe the sergeant is getting nostalgic."

Tim presses the up-to-now unused icon of a laughing man, and a guffaw emerges from his speech synthesizer.

"It is a funny thought," Nell agrees. "I think that's everything except that the Santa Anas are supposed to stop for a day or two. That will be at least a little break for our people, right?"

Tim gives Nell a thumbs up.

Nell nods. "Yeah. Good. I need to go now. It's my turn to bring in goodies for the break room tomorrow, and I want to figure out something I won't have to bake. I'll see you again soon, OK?"

Tim gives her another thumbs up and waves goodbye, feeling better than he has since he collapsed.

* * *

Ben pulls a beer from a cooler and extends it to John as he approaches the lounge chairs outside the guest house. "You look like you need this, or maybe I should dump the ice over your head."

John wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "I might even enjoy that right now. I don't think I would have gotten through today without melting like the Wicked Witch of the West if it wasn't for some cooling stuff Bishop gave me."

"If you were out with Bishop, you must have passed your exam."

"Better than passed, but Grey's not going to let up on me. If anything, I think he's going to come down harder."

"Buddy, after what you've made it through so far, I know you can handle whatever he dishes out."

"Yeah," John agrees, "I think I can."


	3. Chapter 3

The Way Back

Chapter 3

"We ought to throw a party," Ben declares. "You, Lucy and Jackson should celebrate passing your exam."

"It didn't work out too well last time we had a party," John reminds him. "Almost no one showed up - and there was that stalker who attempted suicide in my bed."

"Point taken," Ben concedes, "maybe just dinner. We could have it catered."

"For five people? I used to barbecue for four times that many in my backyard back home."

"This is your home now, Buddy," Ben reminds him. "And the L.A. Fire Department is usually not happy about the chance of flying sparks, especially when the winds are blowing like this. This is the first year I can remember in a long time when we haven't officially been in a drought, but it's still pretty dry, even here."

"Now you have a point," John admits. "We could do a potluck. Jackson said he and Gino have been cooking together. He can bring him if he's not on shift. And Lucy does a spicy vegetable thing. She made it once for me when we were - together. I put together a pretty good pot roast, and we can hit up Betsy Bakes for cupcakes. Lucy and Jackson seem to think they're the dessert thing now."

As Lucy describes the expression on Grey's face on seeing the puppy she and Santiago rescued, John hears a knock on the sliding glass door leading into the guest house. When he checks on it, he finds himself gazing at Jessica Russo. What do you want, Jess?"

"I want to talk, John. The DHS investigation is over. They've cleared me."

His eyes widen in disbelief. "They found evidence that Jimmy reached for his weapon? I know I didn't see…What was on my body cam?"

"There was no gun, John. You were right. But the brass wasn't about to create a PR nightmare by coming down on an agent that took down a terrorist. As far as they're concerned, I'm a hero - publicly at least. Internally, they've benched me. If I stay, I'm behind a desk for the foreseeable future."

Nolan blows out a breath. "So, are you staying?"

"I don't know, John. Is there a reason for me to stay?"

Nolan steps back, shaking his head. "Not from me, Jess. I know what I saw, and obviously, the DHS does too. But there's more to it than that. Henry is the most important person in my life. You endangered him. I can't forgive that. I don't think I ever could."

Jessica closes her eyes as her shoulders slump. "Then I guess that's it. Goodbye, John. Take care of yourself."

"Goodbye, Jessica."

"Everything OK?" Ben asks as John returns to the gathering.

"Yeah. Sure. What did I miss about the puppy?"

* * *

"I'm just guessing here, but was that Jessica at the door during the party?" Ben asks as John finishes scrubbing his roasting pan.

John grabs the dishtowel draped over his shoulder. "Good guess."

"It wasn't hard. When you came back to the table, you looked like someone had punched you in the stomach."

"That's the way I felt. She told me that DHS isn't going to do anything officially because it would be bad PR, but she's been busted down to riding a desk. I broke up with her, but after that blow to her career, I don't think she'd stay around L.A. much longer even if I wanted her here."

"Which you don't."

"No. You were right when you suggested we should batch it together. I think for a while it would be better if I'm not even tempted to have anything warm in my bed - except my heating pad.

* * *

"Do you know anything about the new captain?" Lucy asks as she, Jackson, and John take their places for roll call.

Jackson taps his pen on the table to an imaginary beat. "My dad knows him; said he was in the Israeli army. He didn't say much more than that, but I heard him and my mother talking about a Romeo and Juliet story. I don't know what that's about."

"Sounds intriguing," Nolan comments. "It would imply that at least his heart isn't solid stone.

Lucy spots a man with a military posture walking to the front of the room with Sergeant Grey. "I wouldn't count on that."

Grey takes the podium. "I would like to introduce to you, Captain Moshe Gross. He comes to us from the West Los Angeles Division, where he has established an impressive record for himself. He is now in charge of Mid-Wilshire, and you will give him your full attention."

If Gross has an Israeli accent, Nolan can't detect it, but his voice is deep, reminiscent of the actor who played Tevye in the movie of Fiddler on the Roof. "I understand that everyone here was shocked by the death of Captain Anderson. Wounds like that do not easily heal, and I get that some of you may still be mourning her passing.

"When my short-term predecessor took her place so quickly, it may have seemed disrespectful to her memory. You may even have resented having someone else in charge. I want to assure you that I will honor what she built here. You are a band of brothers and sisters. You depend on each other. You trust each other. I hope that I will become a part of that. However, as cohesive and exemplary as this station is, there is always room for improvement in both attitudes and procedures. I will be observing and going through the records to discover what we can do to make this unit function even more tightly, and I plan to meet with each of you individually. With that, I will turn roll call back to your watch commander."

Grey resumes his place. "If you've paid any attention at all to the news, you know that the passage of a raft of state laws regarding women's reproductive rights has caused an uproar and nation-wide protests. Now, I don't know what your personal views on the controversy are, and I don't care, but there is a women's march being staged today from Hancock Park, and we will be expected to keep the peace. As you are all probably aware, this is a highly emotional issue, and it won't take much to set off an incident.

I expect you to respect the right of free speech for both sides, but the moment any physical confrontation looks likely, I'll need you to get in there and defuse the situation. As much as possible I'm going to send male-female teams, to give you the best chance of building rapport with whoever threatens to get out of hand. Bishop, Nolan, Lopez, West that means you. Officer Nolan, we'll see if you can put your much-touted empathy to work. Santiago, Chen, you'll be on regular patrol, and I'll be handing the rest of you your assignments as you gear up. So take care of each other. Get each other's backs, and let's keep anyone from getting hurt.

"What do you think of the new captain?" Nolan asks as he loads the gear for the day into the back of the shop. "That part about making the unit function more tightly sounded a little ominous to me."

"I don't know, Boot, but if you don't get your ass in gear, it's not the captain you're going to have to worry about. So move it!"

"Yes, Ma'am," Nolan responds. At least Bishop sounds the same as usual. He takes comfort in that.


	4. Chapter 4

The Way Back

Chapter 4

While part of the human barrier between the women demonstrators and a group of male protestors, Nolan can't ignore a question a woman hurls from a makeshift podium. "Are you men willing to take responsibility for the children you force women to carry to term?"

The words hit John like a lightning bolt. He took responsibility, but he never forced Sarah to do anything. He didn't want to drop out of school. He didn't want to get married as young as he did and he sure as hell didn't want to give up his dream of being a lawyer to haul lumber and bags of gravel around on construction sites. But it wasn't about what he wanted to do; it was about what he needed to do. He has more than a few regrets in his life, but being a father to Henry could never be one of them.

Of course, the situation for him and Sarah was different from some of the women who've been speaking. She hadn't been raped. She and John had been very willing partners. Henry wasn't the result of incest, and he wasn't destined to be born just to die a torturous death from a malignant disease. Sarah wasn't about to give up on the chance to have a child conceived in the love she and John had shared. John doesn't know what he would have done if the circumstances had been different. He'll never know.

What he can't understand is the men staring at the ground and shrinking back from listening to a woman who faced the challenge of raising children poor and alone. You can't just sow your seed and walk away - at least he couldn't. To him, the thought is unconscionable. He'd stand by a woman, whatever her decision.

At least the impact of the speaker's story has taken some fire out of the protestors. That is making his job a little easier. All he has to contend with is the aching feet and sore back that come from a day of standing on the hard asphalt. It will be over soon. The second shift will be coming on, and after he and Bishop check in, he can go back to the guest house for a hot shower and a cold beer.

* * *

"Nolan!" Grey calls just as John is heading out the door of the station. "I need to talk to you."

John turns to face his watch commander. "Sir?"

"Word is you have a talent for building and installing things."

"More experience than talent, Sir. Why?"

Bradford can be released from rehab, but he doesn't have anyone to stay with him in his apartment. I know a lot of people here, you included, keep tabs on him, but that's hardly 24/7. He still can't talk, and he can't write or text either. The therapists can continue working with him on that when he's at home. The problem is that when he's by himself, he has no way to let anyone know if he's in trouble. His rehab facility suggested a remote monitoring system. From what I understand, it involves 24-hour visual communication through an iPad. He can signal if he needs help. There will also be a camera by his door to make sure no one is breaking in and a sensor in his bathroom to help detect if he's ill. The thing is, there's a two-month waiting list for the agency to put in a disabilities related system for him. It's all paperwork and insurance. But if you do it, the whole thing can be up and running in a day or two."

"Of course I'm happy to do it, Sergeant. I've put in a lot of security systems. This can't be much different. But you know the schedule. I don't have a day off for almost a week."

"I'll handle that, Nolan. We have to take care of our own."

"Yes, Sir. I get that."

* * *

John lets the hot water stream over his head and down his body. It doesn't wash away any of the questions still whirling around in his brain, but it does ease the ache in his muscles. If Grey comes through, he'll have a day, or at least part of one, off police duty while he sets things up for Bradford.

The news that Bradford had separated himself from his wife managed to make its way around the station. That's something John couldn't quite figure out. The man put his life and career on the line for her when she was using and then cut her loose when she got clean. John would have thought that after Isabel put in the effort to get straight, Tim would have wanted her back. Or maybe Bradford just enjoyed being the white knight. John can understand that impulse. He's experienced the rush of being the savior. Perhaps once it faded, Bradford started looking for other challenges

Bradford is facing plenty of challenges now. Drilling a few holes in the wall and making sure the internet connections are working is hardly a big deal, but at least it's something John can do to help.

* * *

Grey gives John a nod as the rookie takes his accustomed spot at roll call. "Officer Nolan, this morning, it is your privilege to meet with Captain Gross. After the captain has dismissed you, handle the special assignment we discussed. Chen, Santiago called in sick, so you'll be with Bishop."

"As you probably all noticed, the Santa Anas have picked up again, so expect the usual heat-related incidents and stay hydrated. There are no heavy-traffic events planned for today, but there has been an uptick in auto thefts. The favorite targets are Altimas, Camrys, and Fusions - so we're probably looking at thieves working for a chop shop rather than stealing toys to order. Most of the cars were parked on the street or in lots while their owners were shopping - so keep your eyes open. That's all."

John climbs the stairs to what had been Captain Anderson's office. He still feels a little sick, knowing that she won't be on the other side of the door. He hears an immediate "Enter," when he wraps on the glass. The office is relatively barren of personal items, but on a credenza behind the desk, John notices a picture of Gross with a lovely dark-eyed woman in a hijab. That may be the Romeo and Juliet story that Jackson overheard his parents discussing.

Moshe Gross looks up from a file, surveying John before motioning him to a chair. "Officer Nolan, for a rookie you've had quite a tenure. Most officers aren't involved in as many incidents in five years as you have been in six months. During the same period, you've also managed to damage more vehicles than the average demolition derby."

"Yes sir," John acknowledges, trying to swallow his stomach back where it belongs.

"However, you've also performed with uncommon valor as noted by your watch commander, Commander West, and the late Captain Anderson. You've been responsible for saving the lives of several of your fellow officers as well as civilians, including a young child. Your test score was also extraordinarily high. Captain Anderson believed you would be an asset to the force and this division. She put a note to that effect in your jacket. Given that you are, shall we say a mixed blessing, I will reserve judgment.

"I've always found that for better or worse, a person's personal life tends to spill over into their work. I'm sure that you're aware that was the case, to the detriment of her standing, with your training officer. Is there something in your private life that might impact your performance on the job?"

"Sir?"

"A sick mother, an ugly legal battle, family disagreements, anything that might take your mind off your work or cause you to act carelessly."

"Captain, my ex-wife lives 2500 miles away, and our divorce was amicable. My son is in college in Pennsylvania. We get along, except for his opinion of my taste in music."

A hint of a smile tugs at Gross' lips. "Any significant others?"

"I- no."

"That sounds like a 'not anymore.'"

"Yes, Sir, but I've moved on."

"Then I trust you are free of distractions from your further training."

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Sergeant Grey informs me that you will be assisting a fellow officer with his rehabilitation today."

"You could put it that way, Sir."

"Then go get it done. Dismissed."

John leaves the office not knowing if he has an ally in Gross or not. The new captain won't be as supportive as Zoe Anderson was but may live longer for that. One thing John believes is that Gross will be fair. That's better than many men he has known.


	5. Chapter 5

The Way Back

Chapter 5

Lucy is doing her best to keep her eyes scanning for suspicious activity and away from Bishop. She immediately slows when she spots a woman with an electronic scanner standing near a five-year-old Camry. "Bishop, look."

"I see, Boot. Let's check her out."

The lock on the automobile releases, just as Lucy and Bishop arrive. "Is this your car?" Lucy asks, tensing when the woman reaches for her pocket. "Down on the ground with your hands behind your head, now!"

"Take it easy," The woman replies, kneeling on the pavement. "I was just going for my paperwork. I'm authorized to repossess this car. The buyers have missed more than three payments. I'm just doing my job."

"Show me your authorization, and your I.D.," Lucy orders as Bishop keeps the supposed repo woman covered, "slowly."

Lucy studies the identification and documents handed to her. "Nancy Carter. It looks like the paper matches the car."

"Why the scanner?" Bishop asks Nancy. "Why not get a key from the dealership?"

"They sold the note to the finance company," Nancy replies. "I like the scanner better anyway. It works even if the lock's been changed. Can I get up now?"

"You stay there until we check this out," Bishop instructs. "Call it in, Boot."

Lucy gets her information within a few minutes. "She's who she says she is. She has the right to take the car."

"All right, Ms. Carter. You can do your business," Bishop concedes.

Lucy slams the door after climbing back behind the driver's seat in the shop.

"Disappointed you didn't score some points, Boot?" Bishop asks, "or are you just pissed off at me?"

"I wanted to be the one to crack the car stealing ring, but yeah I'm pissed off at you," Lucy confesses. "You told me not to let my personal feelings get in the way of my work, that I should break up with Nolan. He beat me to it and broke up with me. You were behind that too. But I couldn't have gotten back with him, and I didn't because you convinced me to put my career first. Then you blew yours. What the hell am I supposed to think?"

"You can think that I screwed up a long time ago and took responsibility for it. It wasn't my feelings for my brother that got me in trouble; it was a lie. It would have been a lie that got you in trouble too - both you and Nolan. You two needed to break up, Chen. And if you're going to make it through this day in one piece, you better pay attention to the here and now. Do I make myself clear?"

"I hear you," Lucy acknowledges.

* * *

In the relative comfort of his work clothes, John gazes around Tim Bradford's apartment. He's not sure what he expected, but it wasn't this. With the hard-driving macho attitude Bradford showed toward Lucy, John thought the place would be more of a man cave, but there are feminine touches everywhere, from the throw pillows on the couch to the color of the walls. Nolan suspects the decorating took place before Isabel Bradford went off the rails, and the tough T.O. didn't have the heart to change it. Something did matter to him besides his career on the force. The realization makes John even more anxious to help the sidelined cop.

Like most L.A. area apartments, outside of those belonging to the rich and famous, space is at a premium. The counter that divides the small kitchen area from the living space can accommodate the iPad. The setting up the camera and motion sensor will be more complicated. They can work over a Wi-Fi network if it's strong enough and dependable enough. Otherwise, he'll need to hardwire them. He'll try to make that determination if he can. Henry got him an app on his phone to measure field strength. Overall, the job shouldn't be difficult. He'll probably be done with it before his shift on patrol would be over, but Grey isn't expecting him to report for patrol. He might have a couple of hours to kick back a little.

As John is throwing his tools in the back of his SUV, he catches something in his peripheral vision. A young man appears to be scoping out an older Fusion parked in the lot of a convenience store across the street. John recognizes the tool in the youth's hand. A lock puller. A car thief? Nolan could do with some backup, but his suspect is striding toward his apparent target and John doesn't have the time. He reaches for the badge stowed in his pocket, and his weapon. "Police! On your knees, hands behind your head."

Damn! Why do they always run? John sprints after the fleeing would-be felon. Running is easier without 30 pounds of gear around his waist, but he wishes he had his Taser. He sure as hell doesn't want to put a bullet in the kid. He'll have to capture him the old fashioned way. With the advantage of longer legs, he gains on his target until taking him down with a flying tackle.

* * *

"Officer Nolan!" Grey calls as John is making a try at heading out of the station after processing his collar. "Good catch spotting the attempted theft. Did you take care of the assignment I gave you?"

"Yes, Sir, all ready to go, but the monitoring company will have to activate the system."

"Working on that, Nolan. And the detectives will be interviewing the kid you brought in to see if he's connected to a chop shop ring."

"Fingers crossed on that, Sir. Did you need anything else? I promised my landlord I'd fix the door on one of his kitchen cabinets as part of my rent. Like you said, no special favors."

"Uh, huh. How is McRee doing?"

"He's working with Victim's Services. I think it's helping him deal with the trauma of his beating. You may see him around the station now and then."

"Good. You better go take care of business, Nolan."

"Yes, Sir."

* * *

Detective Wolf looks up from his desk at Captain Gross. "Nolan's suspect isn't telling us anything yet; he wants a lawyer. But his M.O. is consistent with the thefts we've been seeing. He was sweating big time. I think he will be willing to tell what he knows to save his ass."

"Keep me apprised," Gross orders. "Looks like Nolan has good instincts. It's early, but does it seem to you that he's on the detective track?"

"As you said, Captain, it's early. He also has a talent for stumbling into dangerous situations. He'll have to stay in one piece until Bishop can finish training him. But I'll keep an eye on him."

"I appreciate that, Detective Wolf."

Returning to his office, Gross rereads Nolan's file. The rookie managed to foil a bank robbery while still an untrained civilian. Wolf is right about Nolan's talent for finding himself on the wrong end of a gun, but also about his instincts. Zoe Anderson felt the same way. Moshe will keep an eye on the aging boot. If Nolan makes it through the year, there may be a way to fast track him - perhaps giving him more backup assignments with detectives.

On the other hand, Grey has expressed fears that if Nolan is successful, it may bring in a flood of older applicants for the force. But if the more senior rookies can handle the physical aspects of police work, that might not be such a bad thing. With Nolan as a test case, what happens next remains to be seen.


	6. Chapter 6

The Way Back

Chapter 6

As he puts his phone away, Nolan can't stop grinning. Henry is coming for another visit. He wouldn't have expected it with school in full swing, but Henry is integrating some firsthand observations about wildlife on the shore of the Pacific Ocean into research for an Ecology course, so he'll be making the guest house his base while he gathers data on his project.

John is just hoping they can get in some father-son time together. Henry did say something about meeting up with Dominique at UCLA. Nolan's sure Grey is glad that his daughter chose a school close to home but won't necessarily be pleased about Henry showing up. The sergeant wasn't exactly crazy about a relationship between the two of them, even by social media. But that was when Dominique was still in high school. Grey's attitude may have softened a bit now that his daughter is in college. Nolan doubts it, but he can hope.

The expression on Grey's face is enough to gain the attention of the cops assembled at roll call. "As I'm sure you've noticed - or at least most of you - the number of homeless has been rising. The latest figures put the increase in L.A. County at 12% and 16% in the city. Not only has this created conflict with some business owners who believe that the homeless drive away their customers, heat is dangerous for the homeless as well. So, you may not only have to minimize conflict but keep your eyes open for anyone in need of emergency assistance.

"Now, with the school year well underway, we're also seeing a rise in drug dealers trying to make sales near school grounds. We're not only interested in busting them, but in finding connections to their suppliers. So whenever you bring one in, please notify the detectives or me so that your suspects can be immediately questioned.

"I have an update on Officer Bradford. He will be coming home from rehab early today, and I'm sure he will appreciate your continued support. Chen, you're still with Santiago. Now all of you, get out there and be careful."

* * *

"Head for the Crest," Bishop instructs Nolan as he gets behind the wheel of their shop.

"The elementary school? Why?"

"Because I told you to, Boot, and because the field across the street is one of the favorite hunting grounds for dealers."

John's hands white-knuckle on the wheel after he starts the ignition. "Little kids?"

"Yeah. Sure. This time of year, there's a whole new crop ready for picking. Billy and Susie want to be like their big brothers and sisters, so the dealers get them started on vaping God knows what. The first few tokes are free, but after they're hooked, it's using their lunch money to buy or stealing from Mommy and Daddy - whatever they can pull off. And once the dealers have the kids, it's that much easier to move them up to opioids, cocaine, whatever."

"That's incredible. You'd think after six months on the job I wouldn't be surprised anymore at how depraved some people can be."

"They're still thinking up new ways to surprise me, Boot, but there's nothing new about dealers. The drugs may change, but it's the same human slime."

Across from the school, John surveys what passes for green space in the October heat of L.A. "I don't see anyone."

"We can swing back later. Let's go check out the parking lots around the buildings on the Miracle Mile. The homeless may have camped out there last night, and the stores will be trying to roust them this morning. There could be trouble."

"Right," Nolan acknowledges.

* * *

Nell knocks hesitantly on Tim's door. Visiting him in rehab was one thing, but using her day off to see him at home is something else. She's wondering how he'll take it, and she's not sure how she takes it herself. Maybe she's getting too attached and should step back a little, but she doesn't want to, at least not until he starts talking again - if he starts talking again."

Bradford answers the door and motions Nell inside. He looks good, even if he could use a shave. She'll take that as a healthy sign. "I brought the doughnuts you like, the ones with the mocha frosting."

Tim nods and mimes drinking coffee.

"Yeah, coffee would be great," Nell agrees as Tim retrieves the carafe from his coffee maker. "There was a new cop show on last night," she continues, wondering if she's babbling. "Did you see it? It's about IA."

Bradford sticks two fingers in his mouth and makes gagging noises.

Nell grins at him. "I know what you mean, especially after that IA cop tried to recruit Talia to be the station snitch. But the show's got Commander West signed on as their consultant, and I don't think he'll let it get too stupid - if anyone watches it."

Tim shrugs and presses a button on the communication box sitting on his small counter, producing the wonk-wonk sound effect of a losing game show move.

Nell laughs, going on. "Chen seems to be doing OK with Santiago, but she says she misses having you kick her butt. And word is that Nolan may have helped bust a car theft ring. The detectives are still looking into it.

"Gross, the new captain, talked to every single cop in the station separately. I don't know what he said, but some of your fellow officers were walking around smiling, and some of them looked like they needed a drink. He talked to me, too. He wanted to know if I thought there was anything we could do to decrease our response time. Gross paid attention when I suggested a couple of things, so he seems to be a good guy. I think he may shake things up a little. I don't know what he said to "Easy Call Wrigley," but he was on to him. The man has stopped sitting on his ass most of the day waiting to cite traffic violations. He doesn't get to take the long lunches at his house anymore, either. He had to break up a knife fight and take a domestic violence call. West and Diaz came in as backup and Angela said Wrigley was almost pooping his pants."

Tim rolls his eyes and raises his eyebrows, mouthing what looks to Nell like the letter "P."

"You're right. She didn't say pooping. I'm so used to being on the air that I try to keep it clean." She hears a hiss of air as he attempts a "shss" sound."

"That is what she said. There's a pool going as to how long it's going to take for Wrigley to apply for the job of stamping complaints at the front desk."

Tim snaps his fingers.

"Yeah, it may be that fast. I think a lot of people are hoping he will before he gets someone killed."

Tim pours coffee into two mugs, pulls a carton of milk out of the refrigerator, and offers it to her.

"You remembered."

Giving her a smug smile, Bradford points at his temple.

"I know there's nothing wrong with your mind. And as soon as it figures out how to tell your mouth what to do again, you'll be back on the job. You're making progress, Tim. I can see it. I could hear it. You're going to make it happen. I know it."

For once, Nell believes her encouraging words.

* * *

"Bishop, do you see that?" Nolan asks as he watches a tent being kicked to the ground before two men back off. "There could be people in there."

"Siren, lights and pull in," Boot.

Nolan drives into a parking lot, stopping as close as he can, before approaching the falling canvas. The asphalt rocks with an explosion as he takes his second step toward the collapsing structure.


	7. Chapter 7

The Way Back

Chapter 7

Ears ringing, John draws himself up slowly on the now cracked pavement and begins to crawl toward what's left of the tent. He finds a child beneath the charred and shredded fabric and feels for a pulse, but can't find one. With his head bursting, he starts CPR and glances back toward the shop to see Bishop shakily picking up the radio. Good! Help will be coming soon. He can feel rather hear the footsteps of the approaching paramedics as a gray curtain draws itself across his vision, and the world retreats into nothingness.

* * *

From far away, Henry is calling. Did he fall off his bike again or does he just want help with his social studies homework? John can't quite figure it out as his eyes open on Henry's face, and the distinctive hospital smell seeps into his nose. "What happened?"

"You practically walked into a bomb, Dad."

The scene flashes into John's consciousness. "The little girl, is she all right?"

"Bishop said that the doctors told her that the kid will make it."

"I barely remember doing anything," John confides. "I guess I got my chimes rung pretty good."

"If you mean the concussion from the explosion, the doctors said that was mild. What took you down was a piece of shrapnel that landed in your back. It almost punctured your kidney. You lost consciousness because you were bleeding out, but the paramedics stopped it, and the doctors gave you a transfusion. You had surgery to repair the damage."

John shakes his head, immediately regretting the action. "I don't even remember being hit with anything. I just focused on the child."

"Good thing you did, Dad. From what I heard, if you hadn't, she would have been brain dead. Now she's going to recover."

"Good to know. I guess I messed up your visit, huh? You wanted to work on your project and hang out with Dominique."

"Dominique was here. She came with her father when he checked on you. She'll be back later. Lucy, Jackson, Bishop, and Uncle Ben have all been in and out too. And I can still work on my project. Uncle Ben said he'd help me set up for it."

"Good for Ben - and you. Where is he?"

"He's with a patient down the hall. He said it's Victim's Services stuff. You want me to get him?"

"No. Ben's exactly where he should be. I'm happy you're here, Son."

"Yeah, Dad, so am I."

* * *

John thumbs the off button of the remote control of the television in his hospital room. Mayor Garmetti is calling for an end to harassment of the homeless. Harassment? Blowing up children is harassment? There has to be a better way to address the problem, but he's damned if he can think of one. He's not thinking of much of anything.

Henry went off to have supper with Dominique. He said they weren't going any further than the hospital cafeteria. Poor kids. John's eaten there several times when he wanted to stay close to a patient, especially the woman he hit with the shop and Ben after he got beaten. John wouldn't class it as a winning culinary experience, but any port in a storm. He expects that his son will be back in a little while unless he gets lost in a pair of brown eyes. John's hoping Henry will remember to bring him something to read from the gift shop. He'd like the latest Michael Connelly novel, preferably with big print, but anything will be better than the bloviating on television. He can rest his eyes until Henry gets back.

* * *

Tim has been practicing all day to say "coffee," in case Nell drops by. Working with his therapist, he's managed the sounds. His mouth just has to put them together. He still struggles to write the word, but he can draw a picture of a steaming cup. According to his augmented communications specialist, drawing involves a different part of the brain, apparently one that wasn't damaged by his bleed. Too bad he's never been much good at sketching. He switched his art elective in high school for a karate class. Still, in addition to his sound synthesizer, it's a way to make himself understood.

He doesn't have to work hard at that with Nell. She seems to understand what he means with just the slightest clue, but he desperately wants to show her the progress he's made - if she shows up.

* * *

"Dad," Henry calls softly holding out the latest Bosch adventure. "The gift shop had 'The Night Fire.'"

John opens his eyes, letting his focus sharpen on the red block letters on the dust jacket. Standing beside Henry, Dominique comes into his field of vision. "Officer Nolan, if you're feeling up to it, Henry and I had an idea we'd like to run by you."

"She's being generous," Henry corrects. "It's her idea. I'm just cheerleading."

John pushes himself up against the pillows, wincing at the pull in his back. "I'm listening."

"I was thinking of an outreach, asking the people of L.A. and maybe the whole country not to just tolerate the homeless or leave them alone, but reach out to let them know they are loved," Dominique explains. "I thought Henry and I and some people I know at school could go online to call for an Embrace the Love Day. We could start it as a hashtag and see if we can get it to trend."

"Dominique thinks you would be a good example of that love," Henry inserts.

"The way you put your life on the line," Dominique adds.

The grooves in John's forehead deepen as he opens his mouth to protest. "I didn't risk my life on purpose. I just got blown up."

"But you helped that little girl even after you were caught in the blast," Dominique insists.

"Not everyone would or could have done that," Henry adds. "Dad, let Dominique use your story. It's on the news anyway. A couple of people who were in the store caught you on their cellphones."

John's tempted to shake his head but thinks the better of it. "I'm all for embracing love. I think it's a great idea. But don't make a big deal about me, OK? I was just doing my job. That's what I signed on to do. Dominique, I'm sure your father would tell you that's what we all signed on to do - protect and serve."

Dominique shrugs her disappointment. "All right, Officer Nolan, I won't play it up, but I'm guessing you're all over Twitter and Instagram anyway. You're out there whether you want to be or not."

"Great," Nolan mutters, wishing he could just go back to work.

* * *

Tim draws a stick figure at the wheel of his shop, with a smaller one beside it that Nell, sipping the coffee he proudly offered her, assumes is Lucy Chen. "You really want to go back to work, don't you?"

Tim nods vigorously. He's never wanted anything more in his life, except to get Isabel off drugs and back into their marriage. She managed the first part herself before delivering the cruel reality. She didn't want back in their marriage. So now, work is all he has left to cling to - work and visits from Nell. Damn! If he can learn to say coffee, as ironic as it may be, he can master, "You have the right to remain silent," and all the other cop-speak. He'll get there, faster and better than any therapist can imagine. Working toward that goal is what makes him open his eyes in the morning.


	8. Chapter 8

The Way Back

Chapter 8

"Is that Dominique's rally?" Ben asks as John is lying on a couch in front of the big screen TV.

"It is," John confirms. "She did a great job. There are kids there not just from L.A. but around the country. They're raising money, getting donations, anything they can do to extend love to the homeless. There's also a contingent of mental health professionals weighing in on what services should be available. I think what Dominique started may be some real help on the street. And now the spotlight's on her where it belongs instead of on me."

"Did Henry get his project done?"

"Once he stopped hovering over me. It reminded me of the way I used to go into his room when he was a baby, just to make sure he was breathing."

"John, you should have seen him when the surgeon told him what he pulled out of your back. He was scared, Buddy. I was scared too. If the paramedics had been a minute later, both you and that little girl might have died."

"Bishop would have taken over CPR for the girl."

"Maybe. She was pretty shaken up too. Even so, that would have meant leaving you bleeding out on the pavement. That would have been a hell of a decision for her to make."

"You're right," John admits, nodding slowly. "I didn't think about that. When did you get so deep?"

"After sitting with about a dozen crime victims. Some of them had to choose which child to protect from an attacker or between putting up with an abusive husband or being out on the street with just the clothes on their backs. I never realized how impossible some choices can be."

"It's true," John agrees. "For cops, a decision we make in a split-second can change lives, including our own, forever. It's just something we have to live with if we want to do the job. If Bishop had to choose, I know she would have done the right thing."

"Meaning possibly let you die?"

"I'm glad we'll never know. But listen, the doctor and the shrink both gave me the go-ahead to go back to work tomorrow. Bishop will have to put up with me again whether she wants to or not."

* * *

"You good, Nolan?" Bishop asks as he grimaces while sliding behind the wheel."

Nolan reaches for the ignition. "The doctor said I'd be fine."

Bishop shakes her head. "I wasn't asking your doctor, Boot, I was asking you. If you want to start back slow, we can go write a couple of tickets for 'California stops' until you get the feel of things again."

"I've been on my butt too long," John confides. "I'd rather dive back into it than sit around waiting for someone to roll through a stop sign."

"Fine. Then let's do a circuit of the school. We've been picking up few dealers while you were gone, but there are a lot more of them out there. Some of them are kids themselves, stealing opioids wherever they can get them and selling them. The schools have been searching desks and lockers, so they stay outside until they unload their stashes."

"Don't those kids have parents?"

"Boot, that's who they steal the pills from - and grandparents, aunts uncles, cousins, anyone. I bet you got some heavy duty drugs when you left the hospital."

"Only a couple of days' worth, after that they told me to take over the counter stuff. The doctor said something about having to be careful not to overprescribe."

"Yeah, well they're not all that careful, especially when the pill makers' reps slip them something not to be." Bishop points toward a basketball court in front of them. "Let's check that out."

Nolan approaches a stick-thin young man sprawled on a bench at the edge of the court with a basketball on the ground at his feet. "Sir, do you need help?"

"Just taking a rest, Officer, while I'm waiting for someone to show up to shoot some hoops with."

"Kind of early in the day for that, isn't it? Most people are at work or school." John points out while noticing the corner of a plastic bag sticking out of the bulging pockets of the loiterer's shorts. With luck, maybe he can knock it loose enough for probable cause to search the would be ballplayer, and arrest him if there's something in that bag besides his lunch. "You'll stiffen up just waiting around. You could strain a muscle trying to go the rounds with someone who walks in off the street. I have a son about your age. He pulled a tendon that way. I could go one on one with you for a couple of minutes, loosen you up a little."

John's suspect does not attempt to reach for his ball. "Don't you cops have something else to do? Bust jaywalkers?"

Nolan shrugs off the jab. "My partner just got a call from her ex, and she's really pissed off at guys right now- you know what I mean? I get back in that car before she cools down and she'll be dribbling me. So how about if we do each other a favor and go for a few." John's reluctant opponent bends over to retrieve his ball. A bag of pills that John instantly recognizes as oxycodone flies from an overstuffed hip to the pavement. Bishop hurries to join Nolan, her weapon drawn while John makes the arrest. "Sir, turn around, put your hands behind your head. We're taking you in on suspicion of dealing drugs."

"Those are for my personal use," the quickly cuffed man protests.

"Then I'm sure you'll able to show us a bottle with your name and a valid prescription number," Nolan responds.

The dealer's mouth clamps shut as John begins his litany of the Miranda warning and walks him toward the shop.

* * *

Nell doesn't have much time on her lunch hour to visit Tim Bradford, but she has shopping and laundry to do after work, so a quick drop-in is better than nothing at all. She spontaneously wraps her arms around his neck when he greats her with a clear, "Hi."

"Tim that's great. I mean, you sound great. I thought you might want to know that Bishop and Nolan brought in a dealer. There was a print on one of his bags of drugs that didn't belong to him. The lab matched it to a con who served time for dealing before - ran a whole network in the Inland Empire. He's still on parole, and the detectives are trying to track him down now. Grey thinks if they can get him, they might be able to cut off the head of the snake."

Bradford grins, making a scissoring motion with his fingers. "Boom!"

The "m" trails off but Nell can understand.

"Right. Everyone is hoping we can blow up the whole operation. "Look, I just ran over, but I have to get back before the end of my break."

Tim points to her and mimes eating.

"No, I haven't eaten anything yet. I thought I could grab something out of the vending machine before I go back on duty."

Tim motions toward the refrigerator before walking over to pull out a giant submarine sandwich and makes a karate chop as if cutting it in half. "You?"

"Sure," Nell agrees, reveling in the sound of his voice. "I'd love half."

Tim smiles and hands Nell a bottle of water before reaching for a knife. He's coming back. He can feel it.


	9. Chapter 9

The Way Back

Chapter 9

Captain Gross frowns as he looks up at Detective Wolf. "Do you think he's ready? He just came off an injury."

"And on his first day back, he and Bishop brought in the suspect that helped us crack an opioid ring. According to Bishop, he did the job of getting the dealer to reveal he had drugs on him, without doing anything that could be challenged in court. It was good work, Captain. He is uniquely qualified for this assignment, and I'd like to see what else he can do."

"What about Bishop?" Gross inquires.

Wolf shrugs. "You can check with Grey. He moves people around all the time. Since she blew her chance at making detective anytime soon, he may have something else in mind where she can rack up points. I hope so. She's a good cop."

"Grey is the watch commander. I'm not about to undermine his authority. You get him to sign off on it; you can have Nolan for your investigation," Gross agrees.

"Yes, Sir."

* * *

"Bishop, see you a minute?" Grey asks before roll call.

"Sergeant?"

"Something's come up that is directly related to your experience - personal not on the force. Have you heard of the Foster Youth Education Group?"

"It formed about five years ago. They have meetings in Sacramento and hand out fact sheets."

"That's right," Grey confirms, "but they want to go beyond that. Their board reached out to the department. It wants local liaisons who understand what foster kids go through and the kind of interventions that might keep them out of the wrong side of the criminal justice system. Given what we've recently learned about your history, you'd be a good candidate - if you're interested."

Bishop swallows the emotion rising in her throat. "I'm interested, Sir. What would I be expected to do?"

"Meet with their people, see how you connect. They can see you this morning if you're up for it, and they'll want to give you several days of training."

"I'm up for it Sir, but what about Nolan? With Bradford out, we're short a T.O. You can't put him with Wrigley, and he's wasted at the front desk."

Grey stops just short of cracking a smile. "I'm not putting anyone with Wrigley, and Nolan's not going to be at the front desk either. He'll be on special assignment - with Wolf."

Bishop's teeth make a dent in her lower lip. "Yes, Sir."

* * *

Nolan doesn't know whether to be proud or apprehensive that Grey directed him to Detective Wolf's office. "You wanted to see me, Sir?"

Wolf nods. "I did, Officer Nolan, I understand that you have experience in the building trades."

"Twenty years' worth."

"Good. That's exactly what I need for an investigation. As you are probably aware, organized crime has continually tried to muscle in on that kind of work."

"There wasn't much organized crime in Clarion County, Pennsylvania where I was a contractor, but I did run up against price fixing and gouging when I had to order materials from Pittsburgh or get waste hauled from my construction sites," John offers. "I understand that the problem is more severe in some big cities, but I hadn't heard much about it in L.A., at least not on a large scale."

"That's because the labor unions pushed back against it. But there are smaller operations in various areas. Up to this point, we haven't seen a great deal of activity in this division, but there seems to be a new group coming in, running a variation of an old scam. They talk homeowners into unnecessary and cut-rate jobs. Then they either take the money and run out on them completely or use such low-quality materials that the homes are left in a worse state than if they had never had the work done in the first place.

"Ordinarily," Wolf explains, "this would be a matter for Commercial Crime, but we've had victims who tried to get their money back and ended up dead. That lands it on our doorstep. What we need is someone who can pose as a homeowner in an area where these people operate. You'd be able to recognize what they are doing for exactly what it is and protest - publicly."

"So you'd be setting me up as the cheese in the rat trap?" Nolan asks.

"Exactly. This is not the kind of assignment we would usually give a rookie. We'll do our best to protect you, but you'll still be putting yourself out there. You can pass on this with no prejudice, but honestly, you're my best choice to play the role."

Nolan pulls himself up to his full six two. "I'm in, Sir. All the way."

* * *

Tim opens the door of his apartment almost as soon as Nell knocks. "Come in."

As her mouth drops, she throws her arms around his neck. "Tim, that's wonderful! When did those words come back?"

Tim shrugs. "Now."

"And that's a new word too. Your therapist said that your brain would build new pathways, right?" Tim nods.

Nell hugs him again. "Looks like it's doing it. Can you write too?" she wonders, digging in her bag and handing him a notebook and a pen. "I do shopping lists and to-do lists. Otherwise, I always forget something."

Tim concentrates as he forms block letters, spelling, "Hi Nell."

"You can do it! Hi, yourself. We should celebrate. That food truck with the spicy tacos you like is parked right up the street. My treat!"

Grinning, Tim writes "date," in her notebook.

* * *

Nolan gazes around the small house Wolf is setting up as a lure. It fits the bill well enough. He's spotted at least half a dozen things that need fixing, and he's barely taken a look. The steps leading up to the place are a disaster visible from the street. The wood is warped, and hunks of boards are missing. The railings are so shaky that they couldn't keep anyone from taking a fall. According to Wolf, the city sent notice to an absent owner that they are planning to condemn the place and offered to postpone the proceedings in exchange for allowing the L.A.P.D. use of it. Seeing the condition it's in; John isn't surprised.

Wolf gave him a cover story to explain while he's there: he just put his aunt, who owns the house, in a nursing home. He has her power of attorney and is trying to decide what to do with the place. Of course, initially, John will have to play dumb about knowing anything about construction. He has had some client experiences he can pull from - men who thought studs were guys who were good at picking up women in bars and single mothers who were so busy juggling work, kids, and God knows what else that they couldn't google the simplest repair. Then there were the weekend would-be handymen who thought they could build anything after a few hours of watching Bob Villa and Norm the carpenter. It cost them more for John to fix their mistakes than if they'd hired him to do the job right the first time. He'll be pulling using all the DIY buzzwords but sounding like he doesn't have a real clue about what he's doing. The friendly neighborhood scam artists should eat it up. At least John hopes so.


	10. Chapter 10

The Way Back

Chapter 10

Talia could do without the introductory video. She understands the issues of the foster system in a visceral way that no film could touch. Still, she appreciates the Hollywood community donating its time and resources to produce it. If shown to school personnel unfamiliar with the system, it should be a wake-up call.

The local supervisor, Laweeda Brown, remembers Talia. They spent about six weeks in the same facility while waiting to be placed and shared the same lunch table a couple of times. But even if she hadn't, she would have recognized Officer Bishop as a member of the same club - the cautious but determined look in her eyes is unmistakable. Laweeda does not doubt that Sergeant Grey picked the right cop for the job. "Look, Officer Bishop, the rules say that I have to put you through at least three days of training. You probably need it like the freeway needs more cars, but if you want to work with us, you'll have to put up with it. Are you willing to do that?"

Talia shrugs. "I've had to put up with a hell of a lot worse."

* * *

John wonders if the insistent knock will splinter the door of his stakeout house. The young man standing on the porch is wearing a crisp jumpsuit and has a lanyard around his neck displaying a picture ID with the name Mark Johnson. The company name on the laminated card is similar to a reputable firm Nolan knows - off only by a letter. It reminds John of the packaging of discount soup made to look almost like a national brand. In either case, the intent is to mislead. John can play along. "What can I do for you Mr. uh, Johnson?"

"The question is what I can do for you, Sir," Johnson insists. "Our company has been doing some work in the area, and we have materials left over. We can't return them to our supplier, but we can help you fix this place up and save you a lot of money." Mark pulls a colorful flyer from a deep pocket. "These are testimonials from some of your neighbors."

"I don't know the neighbors," John admits. "They may be friends of my aunt, but I had to - well - I'm in charge of the house now. But can you come back in an hour while I call some of these people?"

"Of course, Sir, but if I find another customer for our work, the materials will be gone, and you'll lose out."

"Okay," John concedes, reluctantly. "I suppose it will be all right."

"Good choice, Sir," Johnson assures him, "I'll get my crew, and I'll be back in no time. I just need your deposit. For fill-in jobs like this, we can only accept cash, but you should have enough time to visit an ATM."

"I guess so," John agrees, "I think there's one only a couple of miles from here."

John watches Johnson pull away in a pickup with a magnetic sign with the company on his ID, attached to the door. As soon as Johnson is gone, John calls Wolf. "I think the rats are sniffing at the trap. I need you to check out some names. And I have something the lab can use to pull prints."

* * *

"Chen," West calls as Lucy is leaving the station, "You want to double date with Gino and me tonight?"

She turns back to face him. "I don't have anyone to bring, Jackson. I like Gino, but I'd be a third wheel."

"Gino has a straight friend," Jackson offers.

"So this is a fix-up?" Lucy asks.

"Not really. It's just like you've seemed - I don't know - withdrawn. All you do after patrol is go home and work on fixing up your new apartment. When we used to go to Nolan's house after our shifts and walk on the beach, you looked like you were having a lot more fun."

"Mr. policework 24 hours a day is talking to me about having fun?"

"That didn't get me as far as I thought it would. I think I'm a better cop when I get out with people more, and I miss doing karaoke with you. Gino's got a lot of talents, but singing isn't one of them."

"So you're offering to get me a date so I'll sing with you?"

Jackson shrugs. "It's not the only reason, but we could have a good time. And you'll like Gino's friend Heathcliff."

"Heathcliff? His name is Heathcliff?"

"It's not his fault. He said his mother had a thing for the Wuthering Heights. Come on, Chen. Just meet him and see what you think."

"All right. I'll meet you and Gino - and Heathcliff at the karaoke bar at eight."

* * *

Shaking his head, John examines the lumber now stacked against the side of the dilapidated house. It's junk, probably scavenged from another decaying structure, and not even close to the grade needed for the repairs Mark is supposed to be doing.

Johnson only worked for about an hour before taking off, claiming he needed to purchase some specialized hardware. John paid him with marked bills provided by the L.A.P.D and doesn't know if the young man will return. He might. He told John that he'd need more cash or a money order for the $5000 balance of the repairs. That may be a payoff too big to ignore. If Johnson does come back, John will carefully document every substandard nail he hammers.

* * *

Tim and Nell work their way through the line at the Silver Corral all you can eat buffet. He hands his money to the cashier, saying only "two," but she doesn't need anything else. She gives him the markers to put on a table and his change. He leads the way to a small booth and puts down the chits before he and Nell go to pick up trays.

"I'm going for the chicken," Nell decides. "I'd go for seafood, but I only like it if I know it's going to be fresh."

"Avalon," Tim forms carefully.

"Oh yeah," she agrees. "Santa Catalina is the best. You can watch the restaurants buy the catch right off the dock. I had a cioppino there once you wouldn't believe. You know, a trip might be good for you. 'Twenty-six miles across the sea,'" she trills from an old Four Preps song. "Can you snorkel?"

Tim shakes his head.

"I've only done it once," Nell confesses. "I love the glass-bottomed boat though, and I went whale watching a couple of times too. I even saw one jump out of the water. Sorry, I'm babbling."

"No. Not." Tim insists, helping himself to what looks like passable enchiladas. "Nice. Fun."

"We should go then," Nell suggests. "I'm on shift Saturday, but we could drive down to Newport Beach Sunday morning and catch the Flyer. It comes back at 4:30. We could make it a day trip. This is the first time you've been more than a few blocks from your apartment except for therapy. They allow hardly any cars on Catalina. I bet breathing some air that isn't full of exhaust would be good for you. I know I could use it. We could even see the bison. What do you think?"

Tim adds sour cream and guacamole to his plate. "Sunday. Let's go."


	11. Chapter 11

The Way Back

Chapter 11

John watches as Mark's pickup truck and a van pull into the cracked driveway of the tumbledown house. Two of the rat's 4 feet are in the trap now, and John has enough cheese to lure it the rest of the way. Nolan had plenty of marked bills to pay in full what Mark requested, and he will as soon as the jerk comes through the door. But there's no way he can let it go at that. To get the evidence Wolf needs, Nolan will have to prove a lot more than fraud and shoddy workmanship.

It's going to take time. Mark has another load of building materials. From what John can see so far, it's no better than the crap he's put on the house so far. It may even be worse. He'll let whatever the scammers have in mind play out before he tries to bring down the final curtain.

He's always been a pretty good actor, but he never felt that he could deal with the uncertainty of the stage. That was one of the reasons he'd wanted to be a lawyer. He could have used his dramatic skills in front of a jury without worrying about how many auditions it would take to get his next job. Instead, he'd ended up playing roles he'd never anticipated. He's in the second act of his adult life now. But if he flubs his lines, he could be on the receiving end of a lot worse than boos from the audience.

* * *

"Have you ever been to this school before?" Laweeda Brown asks Bishop.

"I've busted a couple of drug dealers on the corner, but I've never been inside. The schools I went to were in a different neighborhood."

"Mine too," Laweeda admits, "But the foster kids here aren't much different than we were. Most of them have been bounced around the system. This is just where they happened to land. If anything, being here is tougher for them than being in their old schools. The language may still be English, but they might as well be in another country. The clothes are strange, the music is off rhythm, and they're excluded from cliques that formed years before they arrived."

"So they act out?" Bishop assumes.

"They act out," Laweeda confirms.

"So what do we do?"

"We try to intervene to keep them out of juvie or something worse. For you, that may mean sweet-talking other cops. You'll also have to present the administration with reasonable alternatives to calling the police - at the very least get it to agree to make you their first call. If you have no choice, you can bring other law enforcement in, but your goal should be to avoid it."

Bishop hooks her hands into her belt. "It doesn't sound like it's going to be easy."

"It won't," Laweeda admits. "But you know both sides of the fence. I can't think of anyone better equipped to handle the job than you."

Bishop sucks her lower lip between her teeth. "I hope you're right."

* * *

Mark and his crew have spent several hours hammering - ineffectually as far as Nolan can tell. He suspects that the haphazard repairs will come apart the next time a big truck rumbles by, let alone during the next temblor. That gives him an excuse to put his plan into motion.

Marks strides into the room where John is pretending to take care of paperwork for his aunt. In reality, he's reviewing the more obscure regulations from his rookie book. Just because he remembered them at exam time, doesn't mean they'll stay in his head like contracting regulations did when he was 25. Memorizing takes more effort now and is less likely to be permanent, but he's willing to put in the time. He had nothing better to do during what Mark's tried to pass off as reconstruction, anyway.

Mark approaches as John closes his thick binder. "All finished, Sir. Your aunt's house is in good shape now."

Nolan pushes out of his seat. "I'd like to check that out for myself." Before Mark can argue, John makes his way to the steps leading to the porch. They creak under his feet, and he bends down to pull at a loose board. "This isn't fixed. It's still a wreck! You need to do it again. And I'm going to inspect at everything else you did too. I don't put up with shoddy jobs from employees at work, and I'm sure as hell not going to put up with them here."

"Sir, Mark protests, "we used all the materials you paid for and did the best we could under the circumstances."

"Then I want my money back," John declares, "or I'm going to file a complaint with the city against your company."

All traces of friendliness vanish from Mark's face. "Well you can go ahead and try, Sir, but my crew and I don't give refunds, and we'll be leaving now."

John feels for the com in his ear as the van and Mark's pickup truck drive off. "Did you get that?"

"Loud and clear," Wolf replies. "You put on a good show, Nolan. I'll have units ready to move in if Johnson or anyone else tries to come and shut you up. Just sit tight."

"I don't suppose I can send out for pizza?" John wonders.

"Why not?" Wolf replies. "If Johnson or his people are watching, they'll think their target is ready to hit."

"Then I don't suppose the L.A.P.D. will pay for it?" John queries.

"Don't push your luck, Nolan, but if we get these guys trying to rid themselves of a human problem, I'm buying," Wolf promises.

* * *

Tim brings up the Santa Catalina travel guide on his laptop. For the longest time, the words appearing on the screen when he typed were garbled nonsense, but now they make sense. He could do without a touristy excursion in a glass-bottomed boat, but if Nell enjoys it, he's more than willing to go. The drive down to Newport Beach and the ferry to the island are more attractive to him. It seems like forever since he's driven an appreciable distance and much longer since he's been on open water.

In his corner of L.A., there's no shortage of opportunities to have the sun in your face, but often the wind is a Santa Ana, which generally heralds trouble or at least misery. On the beach, or better still on the ocean, is a different world. He can appreciate the breeze on his skin and the faint taste of salt on his tongue. Once, he and Isabel enjoyed those things together, but that was another time and another life. He has to move past it.

Nell has been incredible. Her willingness to share station gossip and intrigue, even when he couldn't share anything back, helped him feel a connection to the L.A.P.D., even more so than when his fellow officers dropped by with goodies and pep talks. Their day trip together will be a big step, but he's not sure in what direction.

When he came to Nell after his break with Isabel, he promised a strictly platonic friendship. It has been that, and he's not sure it can be anything more. He's not sure she'd want it to be, or that he has enough to give. He'll have to take it one day at a time, starting with Sunday and see what happens.

* * *

John recognizes the sound of the engine of Mark's pickup truck as it pulls into the driveway of the still decrepit house, and feels for the gun concealed in his ankle holster. "Wolf, he's here."


	12. Chapter 12

The Way Back

Chapter 12

Nolan hears the door splinter before it falls inward propelled by a large boot. Johnson is holding a 45 aimed squarely at John's chest, and two mountainous men carrying baseball bats flank him. "You have my money. What do you want?" John demands.

Nolan can imagine oil dripping from Johnson's sneer. "We're just going to take you for a little ride. Consider it VIP customer service."

Do you always threaten people with a gun and baseball bats to offer customer service?" John inquires.

"Move it!" Wolf shouts into his walkie-talkie as he runs toward the house.

"If it's all the same to you," John stalls, "I can do without being a VIP. And I have rethought filing a complaint with the city. You fellows did the best you could."

"And how do I know you won't change your mind ag…?"

Wolf and his men charge into the room distracting Johnson and his thugs, giving Nolan a chance to reach for his own weapon. "You're right, and I did change my mind again. I'm not filing a complaint; I'll be giving the D.A. what she needs to file charges. If you gentlemen are smart, you will drop your weapons, kneel on the floor - assuming it doesn't give way under you - and put your hands behind your heads."

* * *

Bishop sips slowly on a bottle of beer while she studies the binder Laweeda Brown gave her to accompany her training session. She can skim past the descriptions of what it's like to be a teenager in the foster care system. She could have written them - except that her language would have been stronger.

It's the intricacies of the rules governing what schools can do to enforce discipline that concern her, particularly for the students who have a learning disability. She knew more than a few. They were mercilessly teased by other students when they couldn't keep up, and if they tried to fight back, they were suspended.

Damn! It says right in section 1415 that a child can't be suspended for more than ten days or expelled for misconduct that's a manifestation of a disability. Sometimes she saw mothers and even fathers come to school to fight for their kids. Hell, she could see Nolan doing something like that for Henry, if the kid had needed it. But she doesn't remember anyone fighting for the kids she knew. They missed more and more and fell further and further behind until they gave up and dropped out. She knew some of them ended up in juvie before graduating to prison. They'll have someone to fight for them now. She memorized all the law relating to police work. The law relating to school discipline should be a piece of cake.

* * *

John doesn't even have the energy to slip his shoes off before crashing on the couch. He was fine for a couple of hours after arresting Mark Johnson and his now not-so-merry band of felons, but by the time he finished the paperwork, his adrenaline buzz was gone, and he was ready to crash. After a while, he may work up the ambition to strip off his clothes and climb between the sheets of his bed, but for now, he'll just stay where he is. He can afford to kick back a little. He has Saturday off as comp time, and he was scheduled to have Sunday off in any case.

* * *

Nell is a little apprehensive when Tim offers to make the early morning drive to Newport Beach himself, but the last thing she wants is to discourage him. She's also never been fond of driving long stretches of freeway, and for Tim, the quintessential cop, driving is second nature.

The air along the ocean is about as clear as it gets in Southern California and driving almost due south minimizes the glare of the sun. The ferry is just loading as Nell and Tim arrive. They stake out a spot on the uppermost level where they can watch the water and feel the breeze.

The journey through the sailboats in the harbor and across the open water toward what looks like a mountain of clouds passes almost too quickly, and they disembark at Santa Catalina Island. After renting one of the electric carts that serve as the transportation permitted on the island, Tim navigates to Green Pier where they can take the 45-minute glass-bottomed boat tour of Lovers' Cove.

Underwater life abounds, and Nell revels as the guide points out kelp bass, leopard sharks. Garibaldi and bat rays. She exclaims as they spot a friendly sea turtle and Tim delights in seeing the joy on her face. In his career as a cop, he's encountered more miserable expressions than happy ones. He's often been the cause of the pinched and occasionally furious faces on some of his boots. He remembers when he made Lucy get out and walk because she didn't know where they were. At the time, he was proud because he was teaching her a valuable lesson. But on the flip side, sharing sheer enjoyment is something worth treasuring.

By the time the boat returns to the pier, Nell confesses that she is starving, which is just as well with Tim because between the water and the sea air, he's famished too. They agree that they can't miss the seafood, seeking out a less expensive but highly rated restaurant with a South American flair.

At their outdoor table, Nell absently watches the tourists stroll by but notices Tim intensely regarding the crowd. "You look like you're expecting a crime wave to break out any second. This isn't L.A. The roads aren't crowded with cars, and there's no way in or out except by plane or boat. Not a whole lot of chance for heavy-duty crime to take place."

"Right. Habit." Tim admits. "But spotted spray cans. Kids tagging."

"If they do, I'm sure the local cops will get them for it. The last thing they need around here is to mess with the ambiance and screw up the tourist industry."

"Right, again," Tim concedes. "Can't stop cop eyes."

Nell lays a hand on his arm. "I know. I also know you'll make it back to using them in L.A."

* * *

Talia is restless. There won't be any calls coming in from schools on a Sunday, and she's not scheduled for patrol. She's studied the materials Laweeda gave her until she practically knows them by heart, but she feels like there's something more she should be doing.

After her experience with her foster brother and the revival of her memories by Laweeda, she feels like she should take some time in the neighborhood where she grew up. Last she heard, there are still always kids by the basketball courts. More often than not, the gangs are hanging around, trying to interest the players in more than games. It's a powerful temptation, and a lot of the kids are giving in to it. The foster kids will be more vulnerable than most.

If she heads down there in uncoplike clothes and with the right attitude, she might be able to pick up some intelligence on the newest methods of luring victims into drugs and violence. She may have thrown a monkey wrench into her plans to be a detective, but that doesn't mean her investigative skills are any less sharp. If she goes through her wardrobe, she'll be able to find an outfit that will allow her to blend in. It'll be a hell of a lot better than just sitting around thinking about what's going on out there.


	13. Chapter 13

The Way Back

Chapter 13

Pretending to puzzle over her choice of snack food in the convenience store across from the basketball court, Bishop eyes the reflection in the convex mirror above her. She's seen enough recruiters to know what's happening. The guy in the flashily expensive shirt is trying to talk some poor kid into selling drugs for him.

As a baggie changes hands, it looks like he's succeeding. Damn! She didn't come to her old stomping grounds to make an arrest, just to see what is going on. She couldn't see the contents of the baggie, so she doesn't know for sure it was drugs. She pulls out her phone and snaps a picture of the man making the handoff. If Narcotics can ID him, she might be able to get him off the street without pulling the kid into it. She hopes so. She reaches for a stick of beef jerky. Right now, she can use something to bite on.

The jerk hitting on the kid is probably not the only one in the neighborhood. She can take a walk around the businesses. There's a laundromat, a dollar store, a payday lender and a restaurant that's been there ever since she can remember. She didn't eat there very often, but she remembers the chicken and waffles as one of the better things in her otherwise depressing old stomping grounds.

* * *

Nolan flips through the channels on the big-screen TV. He has a choice between mindless chatter, movies he's already seen, sitcoms, fix-it shows and cop shows - lots of cop shows. He abandoned fix-it shows long ago. He could probably write one - a better one. Before he became a cop, the procedurals fascinated him. Now he keeps a mental tally of the errors.

John could use some company, but Ben's taken off for New York for a few days of catching shows and service in a five-star hotel, and Lucy and Jackson are on shift. He can take a walk on the beach. The ocean is too cold to spend much time in without a wetsuit, but there will be people sunbathing and generally hanging out. Even if he's by himself, he can use a little air.

John can almost smell the panic as he spots a group of people fanning out to stare intensely along the sand and water. John approaches the nearest man. "What happened?"

"A 4-year-old boy was digging in the sand near where his parents were lying on a blanket and reading. When they looked up, he'd disappeared."

"Anyone call the police?" John asks.

The man shrugs. "I don't know. His parents were shouting for everyone to look for their kid. They said he's wearing a red T-shirt."

John pulls his phone from his pocket. "I'm a cop. I can check if anyone is on the way." The dispatcher gives John an ETA of five minutes, but it's too long, much too long.

The dry sand of the beach doesn't hold footprints very well with the breeze off the ocean, but the damp sand above the line of the ebbing waves will. John looks for prints that would fit a 4-year-old, trying to remember the size of Henry's feet at that age. At first, all he sees are paw prints, but then the tiny human versions appear.

The boy was playing with a dog. John just hopes he didn't follow the pup into the water. With a tightening throat, John traces the foot and paw prints, some of which have been erased by the tide. Oh, God! There's a flash of red bobbing over the waves. John's feet pound the wet sand as he runs. In seconds that seem like hours, he can see the child in the shirt, which is being held above the water in the mouth of a very large, wet, and determined canine.

"Here, boy," John calls, "bring him to me. He'll be safe, just bring him to me." Slowly the dog seems to get the message, paddling toward shore with the boy firmly in its grasp. John squats and holds his arms out to catch the child as the dog lets go.

John hears shouts of "Cobie!" in the distance as a man and a woman run up to where John is holding the child.

"I'm a police officer," John says. "The boy seems all right, but the paramedics can check him out. I called in units from the local division. They should be here any minute. I'll give you my badge number so you can confirm my identity. We'll need some I.D. from you, and you'll have to give a statement."

Cobie looks up, blue eyes puzzled. "Mama, why are you crying? I was just playing with the doggie." Cobie reaches out to pet the dog who is standing protectively nearby on the sand. "Good doggie."

* * *

Bishop buys a can of cola from a vending machine in the laundromat and drops into a scarred plastic chair to drink it. There's a steady stream of people in and out, most going to a counter in the back where a sign saying, "Change," is prominently displayed. Needing change would figure if they were doing laundry, but only a few washers and dryers are spinning. What she sees only makes sense if the patrons are either buying drugs or laying down bets, and Bishop would lay down a bet of her own that it's drugs. She'll call it in, but she wants to check out the dollar store and Clucking Waffles, first.

Talia can't see anything suspicious in the dollar store except that more than half the food is past its expiration date. The crap is always dumped in neighborhoods where people can't afford anything better.

Clucking Waffles looks much as it always has, but the smell of over-used oil overlays the savory aroma of chicken. The young woman behind the register is sporting a costly weave and claw-like blue fingernails, something Talia would not have expected on a member of the Clark family that owned and operated the place for as long as Talia can remember. The sweet fragrance of the vanilla in the waffles is still enough to make her take a seat at a table and order.

Talia sits for at least 10 minutes, waiting for her food to arrive. That's not a bad sign. At least the waffles will be freshly made, but she sees her server whisper to the woman at the register before bringing Talia's food.

The waffles are OK, but the chicken isn't as crisp as Talia remembers and has an aftertaste she can't identify. The room begins to slip like a curtain coming down on stage. Talia reaches for her water but barely takes a swallow before collapsing in her chair.

Blue fingernails thumbs an icon on her cellphone. "It's done. What do you want us to do with her?"

* * *

The call comes from Grey, long before John is due at roll call. He'd expected a few jokes that morning about having to be aided in a rescue by a dog - especially since Rescue Ranger, as the heroic pooch had been dubbed, was all over social media, with a passing mention to an assist from an off-duty L.A.P.D. officer named Nolan. An "All hands on deck immediately," summons is never a sign that something good has happened.

A/N I would imagine that a lot of you found the accusations leveled by Afton Williamson upsetting. Since Bishop is an important character to me, I did. But I also had some immediate doubts. I don't know how many of you follow Alexi Hawley. He has championed women's causes for years. Most recently, he launched an intensive search for women directors so they would have parity with men on the Rookie — not misogynistic behavior.

To the Rookie. First of all, the Head of Hair who was alleged to have sexually assaulted Afton at the wrap party is a woman, not a man. Her name is Sallie. Check IMDB. That doesn't make it impossible, but it makes it unlikely. The key hairdresser is black, which casts some doubt on the racism aspect.

Here's the kicker; a quote about Afton found on Reddit by fans:

"Look, I work on the show as an extra and she was my least favorite principle character. Rudest person to the extras, regularly talking over people, and multiple times I heard her scoff the director. She was the worst and I'm glad she got replaced.

"I can't speak for mistreatment coming from hair and makeup, they have different hairdressers than we do. But I'd recommend taking these claims with a grain of salt. The show has multiple persons of color of both sexes on the show, makes me wonder why only she was harassed/why she was let go."

I'm going to continue writing about Bishop in a positive vein until I can write her out. Bishop is a fictional character. I like her. How much truth lies with Afton will probably come out sooner or later. eOne is investigating and has been since June.


	14. Chapter 14

The Way Back

Chapter 14

Grey takes his place at the podium in front of the roll call room. "I know it's early, but after you hear what I have to say, I'm sure you'll all want to be here. Yesterday, Officer Bishop transmitted a photograph to Narcotics. That photo was identified as a known dealer. The metadata associated with the image gave Bishop's location as Watts. The picture appears to have been taken at a basketball court near a school there.

"Narcotics made repeated attempts to reach Officer Bishop. Her phone is either disabled or turned off, and her GPS isn't functioning. Units attempted to contact Officer Bishop at her apartment. She wasn't there, and her neighbors have no idea where she is. Given where she was seen last, her disappearance is in the jurisdiction of the Southeast Community Station, but we're reaching out. If any of you have any idea where Bishop might be, or what might have happened to her, please communicate that information to their liaison. And I'll be lending them the teams that know her best. Lopez and West, you will be on temporary assignment and Nolan, you will be reporting to Southeast with Detective Wolf. Get out there and be careful."

* * *

"You've known Bishop for years, haven't you?" Nolan inquires of Wolf.

"Bishop and I worked together, but we didn't talk much. You know how she is,"

"I do," Nolan agrees. "Most of the time, I tried to get to know her better; she reminded me that I was her boot, not her partner. Still, revelations emerged now and then. Maybe something she said will help."

"I hope so," Wolf responds, starting the beat-up car he uses for undercover work.

"So, where are we going?" Nolan wonders.

"Watts, where she disappeared. Maybe someone saw her. You should probably stay in the shop when I talk to most of the locals. They'll be suspicious of - you get it."

"Because I'm white. I know. I knew some folks in my town in Pennsylvania, who wouldn't have felt comfortable talking to a black man. Stupid!"

"But the way it is. Keep your eyes open and if anything you see jogs your memory about something Bishop said, let me know."

"I will," Nolan promises.

Nolan wracks his brains while Wolf questions young men at the basketball court and returns, shaking his head. If anyone saw her, they're not saying. It's what I expected, but I was hoping we'd get lucky. I'll drive around; see if you spot anything."

Wolf cruises slowly past the laundromat and the dollar store until the car is opposite Clucking Waffles. "There!" Nolan points. "I remember a day when the food truck that sells waffles and pancakes was outside the station. Bishop said the waffles weren't as good as the ones served with chicken in her old neighborhood. If she stopped anywhere, she would have stopped in there."

Wolf picks up his phone. "I hope you remember right, Nolan. Before we try to go in there, I'll see what the locals know about the place."

* * *

"Bradford, what are you doing here?" Grey demands.

"Saw 'All hands.' Still on list." Tim replies. "Talia my boot. Help."

"She was your boot for two weeks," Grey protests.

"Enough," Tim argues. "Know Talia."

"I can't put you out there, and you know that," Grey warns.

"Stay with Nell. Monitor," Tim suggests.

"Fine," Grey agrees.

* * *

Tim points to Nell's notation of Clucking Waffles. "Know place. Isabel. Drugs."

"Tim, Wolf called Clucking Waffles in. I just passed it on to the Watts liaison, but you can respond first." Tim's fingers curl into tight fists. "You can do this," Nell assures him.

"Are you understanding this, Nolan?" Wolf queries. "You talk to Bradford more than I do."

"He says that Isabel went after Clucking Waffles for selling drugs before she became an addict," Nolan interprets. "It was a distribution center. He thinks they might be back at it."

"Thanks, man," Wolf says into his radio. "That helps a lot."

Nell smiles at Tim. "See? Now Wolf can be on it as soon as his backup arrives."

"Soon," Tim hopes.

* * *

Bishop is still having trouble focusing, and her hands are half numb. When she manages to look down, she can see her wrists are secured by the kind of plastic ties some law enforcement agencies use for mass arrests. Her ankles are bound too. She has no idea how long she's been out, except that her mouth is dry and she desperately wishes she had a place to pee.

From the sliver of light leaking around the edge of one of the covered windows, it's day, but what day? She'll be missed by now, and the L.A.P.D. is not about to let its people go missing, even if they do have reprimands in their jackets. Grey will have her comrades in arms out looking, but she has no idea how they'll know where to look. From the oil smell in the air, she's pretty sure she's still at Clucking Waffles, but no one knew she was coming here.

She can try to get out of her bonds. The nylon used to make the ties won't give much if she pulls on it, but it will abrade. She lets her fingers curl over the arm of the metal arms of the chair she occupies. It's cheap enough that they have sharp edges. Good. She can get to work. It's better than sitting and doing nothing.

"We can't just sit here and wait," Nolan complains. "Who knows what could be happening to Bishop in there?"

"Nolan, we don't even know for sure if Bishop is in there. But if she is, and we charge in by ourselves, they could shoot her or worse before we could do anything about it. We need to go in there in force, which means, hard as it is, waiting for all the backup we need."

"What if I try to figure out where in the building she is?" Nolan asks. "Can we get the plans? Most of those are digitized now. The building department could transmit them. If I have a look, the most likely place they'd put her might jump out at me."

"Now you're thinking with your head instead of your gut, Nolan. I'll put in the call, and we should be able to put the plans on our shop screen."

The few minutes before he has anything to look at seem like a month to John, but once the image appears, he jabs his finger at a small room. Here! This is away from the dining room and the kitchen. Probably a supply room or something. But Bishop would be out of the way and out of earshot of the customers." He jerks around in his seat to survey the building. "The left back corner. She'll probably be there if she's anywhere. And there's a back door next to it. I want to be in the group that goes through that door."

"You will Nolan, but we'll be covering every way in or out. We have to coordinate everyone's movements like we did at the raid on the car-jacking ring." Teams including Lopez and West begin to roll up and park along the curb down the block from Clucking Waffles. "Here we go, Nolan. Are you ready?"

"I've been ready since the moment we got here."

"Just keep your head, Nolan," Wolf cautions. "It's no good going after Bishop if you get it blown off."

"Yes, Detective. Understood."


	15. Chapter 15

The Way Back

Chapter 15

Bishop's shoulder aches but she's managed to almost cut through one of the ties holding her to her chair. She can hear scuffling outside - or maybe she just wants to. No, there are definitely multiple footsteps. She can only hope they belong to people on her side.

Nolan is second in line behind the tactical officer preparing to breach the door closest to where he guessed Bishop is. John has his weapon ready, as do Wolf, Lopez, and West. The door and frame are metal, and the officer in the lead employs a hydraulic ram on the lock to get it open.

From the familiar rending sound, Bishop knows exactly what is happening. Nolan is the first one to enter the room where she's imprisoned. Oh, of course, John would fly to her rescue. He always has, whether she wanted him to or not. "What took you so long, Boot?"

Nolan pulls clippers out of a compartment of his belt to snip through her bonds. "Wolf isn't as smart as my T.O. He wouldn't let me be primary."

"And we thought you knew better than to get yourself into this kind of trouble," Lopez adds.

"Let's just get Bishop out of here," Wolf interjects.

Nolan squats in front of Talia. "Can you walk?"

"I think so, but has anyone seen a bathroom around here? The closer the better."

"I saw one on the plans," Nolan replies. "It's right down the hall."

Lopez extends a hand. "Come on. We'll go together."

Nolan and West lock gazes. "The women always want to go together," Jackson comments as Lopez supports Bishop for the short walk.

"After being married for twenty years, I have a slight idea about what they talk about in there. Believe me," John advises, "you don't want to know."

* * *

"There were more drugs than chicken at Clucking Waffles," Wolf reports to Bishop as she leaves the emergency room. "Ever thought of going to work for Narcotics? They could use your knowledge of how things go down - and they might not care as much what's in your personnel record."

Nolan swallows hard. "Bishop, you're not leaving, are you? Working with the detectives is great, but I need my T.O."

"Boot, you'll be fine with anyone, even Wolf, you've proved that. When I was at Clucking Waffles, I had no idea if I'd ever get out of there alive. But I figured that if I did, I was going to make every minute count. What I've been doing at Mid-Wilshire is important, but I've found where I'm needed more, where I can help kids before they make their first trip to juvie, or worse. I was ambitious. I wanted to make chief by 40. But now I can see that there's a better way for me to make a difference, and I'm going where I can do it."

"When?" John asks.

"As soon as I can get the paperwork put through."

* * *

"Do you know who your new T.O. is going to be?" Ben asks.

"No idea," John admits. "Grey thinks he'll keep me with the detectives for a while. My skill at understanding how structures are put together has come in handy. He thinks that I may be able to figure out ways in and out of buildings, secret rooms, and where things may be stashed."

"Can you do that? Ben wonders.

"Maybe. I was right about where Bishop was. And Bradford is going to be working with us on limited duty. He's still getting his speech back, but he helped with Bishop too, and he knows a lot about how things in this city work. He's also really motivated. He wants to get back on the job, and eventually try to make sergeant. Anyway, Nell thinks it will be good for him to come back. So does Lucy, even if she isn't going to be his boot."

"Do you know what your first assignment is going to be?"

"Wolf wants to take down home invaders. They've killed one person, a seventy-eight-year-old man who was trying to defend his wife. They clubbed both of them, but the husband died. That makes it a felony homicide. The wife was able to give a description, but she didn't have her glasses on, so she couldn't give more than skin color and height. She thought one of them might have had an accent, but she couldn't recognize it."

"Not much to go on," Ben observes.

"No. it isn't," Nolan agrees. "the thing is, the house has strong locks and a security system, but the invaders came in from the roof through the attic, which wasn't wired. Wolf wants me to study the construction of the other homes in the area and find some with similar layouts that might make likely targets. We'll ramp up patrols around them and if we can, set up a sting."

"Are you going to get to play the hapless victim again?"

"I don't know. I'll be going out with Wolf first to make my assessment of a pretty large group of houses first. After that, I find out what my next step will be."

"What about Bradford?"

"He's going to be going through the records of past invaders to see if he can identify some possible suspects. We'll have every team in the area on the lookout for anyone he comes up with."

"When do you start?" Ben inquires.

"Tomorrow morning, which gives me a night to obsess about it. Lucy wanted to throw Bradford a back-to-work party, but he begged off. I think he and Nell are going out. She's been helping him a lot through his recovery, and she's very proud of him."

Ben quirks one eyebrow. "Are they a couple?"

"Damned if I know, but no reason they couldn't be. Nell's a civilian and not under his supervision, so there wouldn't be any regulation against it. If they are, I wish them well."

"You wish everyone well. John."

"Not the assholes that drugged and tied up Bishop, or the scumbag who beat you up and stole your car."

"All right. Almost everyone."

* * *

Nell gazes around the steak house. She wouldn't have thought it would be Tim's kind of place. As far as she can tell, there's not a single item on the menu with the spiciness he usually likes, unless she counts the horseradish sauce that comes with the prime rib. It is nice, though. The white cloths on the tables are spotless, as are the linen napkins. The tables aren't too close together, and when she got a look at the dessert tray, her eyes almost popped out of her head. "How'd you hear about this place?"

"Wrigley."

Nell wrinkles her nose. " I wouldn't think you'd want his advice about anything."

"Lazy cop but knows food. Wife great cook."

"She must be since he likes to go home for lunch every day."

"No more. Grey."

"Yeah, I heard the sergeant came down on him. Past time. So what did he say is good here?"

"Filet mi… Damn!"

"Filet mignon," Nell fills in. "Tim, it costs a fortune!"

"Don't care." He reaches across the table and curls his fingers around Nell's slim hand. "Celebrating."

"It is great that you can go back to work. You must be really looking forward to it."

Tim flashes her a wider grin than Nell can ever remember seeing. "Hell, yes!"


	16. Chapter 16

The Way Back

Chapter 16

"Sergeant," Nolan queries from the doorway of Grey's office. "Am I supposed to be in uniform or plain clothes this morning? Wolf didn't give me instructions one way or another, and he's not in yet."

"Uniform, for now, Nolan, unless Wolf gives you another undercover assignment. The detectives tend to drift in at the last minute since they don't have to change. But you'd better hurry to get your gear on if you're going to get your ass to roll call on time."

"Yes, Sir. I'll be there."

Nolan is breathing hard but slides in next to Lucy a few seconds before Grey takes the podium. "I'm sure some of you have noticed the absence of Officer Bishop. I assure you that she is fine, but has made the decision to serve the L.A.P.D. and the city in another capacity. I wish her well, and I'm sure you all do too. She did assist in the takedown of a drug ring that was a significant supplier in the city, so for the moment, you may be seeing fewer drug-related transactions. However, that is no excuse not to keep your eyes open. No doubt new entrepreneurs will try to move in to take over the market.

"Now, as to current assignments. Officer Nolan will be on special duty with Detective Wolf. Officer Bradford is returning and," he stops while the room stands and applauds. "As I said, Officer Bradford is returning to assist Detective Wolf as well. Officer Chen, you will remain with Officer Santiago. Most of the rest of you will pursue your routine patrols. Detective Wolf will be requesting drive-bys at specific locations and dispatch will pass those on as necessary. Now get out there and be careful.

* * *

Wolf drives through the streets surrounding the house where the home invasion took place, allowing Nolan to determine other likely targets. "There!" Nolan points. "Look at that house. See how close the tree is to the roof? There was one just like it at the victim's home. And the construction is almost identical. Someone could drop from that tree to the roof, take off that attic vent and climb right in. It would be an easy target. This looks like one of those developments with five or six models of houses where there were minor differences put in to suit the original buyers. Depending on the growth of the trees in the area, there may be several more vulnerable homes."

"You point them out to me, Nolan, and I'll make sure they get extra coverage," Wolf assures him driving on.

"That one up ahead looks like the same layout, complete with a tree, and there's a sign on the lawn. Hey! It's for rent, the perfect venue to set up a sting."

"Slow down, Nolan. We have no idea when or if it will be available and whether the owner would be willing to allow it to be used by the L.A.P.D. We'll check it out, but I want you to identify all the other possibilities in the area too. That's what you're here for."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

"You look beat," Ben comments, holding out a beer. "Detectives running you ragged?"

"Just the opposite. I was sitting on my butt next to Wolf most of the day. I don't want to run any marathons, but just sitting there is as exhausting as a chase down Hollywood Boulevard, maybe more, because there's no adrenalin."

"You miss Bishop."

"Maybe. She wasn't exactly warm and fuzzy, but she never went for the easy calls. She made sure I got in as much experience as I could. I had a lot of action on my last job with Wolf - the last couple."

"Take the break, John. If you want some safe excitement, we could go out to a new club that just opened up. It's called Post Millennial. They feature music that you and I might actually know. If you want adrenalin, you could do karaoke. We could do a duet."

"You can't sing, Ben."

"That's what would make it exciting, dodging whatever the crowd throws at us. Come on. They have your favorite drink from the nineties, a watermelon martini."

"Ooh, it is. But if I have a watermelon martini and you have your usual, who's going to drive?"

"We can Uber. That will be an adventure, too."

* * *

John could do without the repetitive techno beat now pounding through the club. He'd been thinking more in terms of Whitney Houston or Mariah Carey, but his watermelon martini isn't bad. People his age managed to do karaoke without going too flat and the group on the dancefloor seems to be having a good time. Maybe some of them are having too good a time. "Ben, there are people out there being ripped off."

"John, I know the cover charge is a little high, but it's not a rip-off."

"No, I mean, really. There's a team out there working an old pickpocket scheme - the stall and bump. I have to go arrest them."

"Really, John? Couldn't you just ask the manager to call cops who are on duty?'

"They could be gone by then and make off with God knows how much in cash and credit cards. I'll call for back up, but I have to get in there now. As John pulls his badge out of his pocket and wades into the gyrating crowd, the staller signals to the pick and they both start running for the exit. Damn!

John locks glances with Ben who kicks over a chair in their path, causing one to stumble in front of the other, and putting both thieves on the floor. John cuffs one then has to take the other one down again but manages with some help from Ben and the surrounding crowd who makes the path to the exit impassable. In 10 minutes, cops from the local division arrive, to the applause of the club's patrons, to get a statement from John and transport the suspects.

"Not exactly the adventure I had in mind, but fun," Ben remarks. "Ready to grab our ride home? I called for an upgrade. I figured we deserve it."

"What kind of an upgrade, Ben? I didn't know Uber has them."

"They don't, but you'll like it. I used the service for a while after - you know."

A white limo pulls up in front of Post Millennial, and a woman in heavy makeup, a chauffeur's cap, and a crisp uniform opens the doors to the back seat for Ben and Nolan. John is feeling drowsy on the way back to Ben's guest house and realizes that Ben is already asleep. As he drifts off, he guesses that the adrenalin of the chase must have worn off.

* * *

When John wakes up, he realizes that he is shackled to a metal chair bolted to the floor, and Ben is in another one beside him, still unconscious. "Welcome back," the chauffeur greets him cheerily. "You may feel a little buzz for a while. Sleeping gas has that effect, but it's not toxic."

"Who are you? What do you want with us?" John demands.

"With you, Officer Nolan, nothing. You just happened to be along for the ride. Now your friend Mr. McCree, here, is another matter. No doubt that the family who endowed him with such a generous trust fund will want their scion back safe and sound. They will get him, as soon as they pay the ransom. And you will be freed as well. And don't worry about being able to identify me. After we get what we want for your companion, I will never look like this again."


	17. Chapter 17

The Way Back

Chapter 17

Coming slowly to awareness, Ben scans the room until he spies John. "What the hell happened?"

"A kidnapper in chauffeur's clothing. Apparently, she is determined to ransom you back to your family."

"That could be a problem."

"Why?" John queries. "Last I saw, the McCree empire is well up in the Forbes 400."

"But I'm not a part of the empire," Ben explains. "I'm a prodigal son, of sorts. I took my part of the estate and went to live my own life. I have substantial investments, and so far, I've never had to touch the principal, but I have nothing like the assets my parents have. Since I took off on my own, my father doesn't talk to me. My mother and I stay in touch, but she has limited access to resources. And I'm not even sure where they are. Last time I talked to Mom, she said they were going to France and Italy, so my father could look after the family interests in the vineyards there. I get my restless feet from them. They're always on the move. And even if I could put the kidnappers in touch with them, I'm not sure my father would pay."

John snorts. "Ben, that's ridiculous. Of course, he would. Prodigal or not, you're his son. Haven't you read the parable?"

"When a nun was standing over me with a ruler. But honestly, John, I doubt my old man is about to kill the fatted calf."

"As a dad, I'm not as cynical as you are, Ben, but even if you're right about your father, the FBI is bound to get involved in a kidnapping as high profile as this. They'll work with the L.A.P.D. to track us down. All your family has to do is tell them."

I'm not sure my family would tell them, John. If it gets out that I've been taken, it will invite attempts on my brothers and sisters. McCree International has its own security organization. If the kidnappers make a convincing case to McCree corporate, they'd be called in. If anyone tries to find us, that's who it will be. But crank threats come in all the time. The execs in charge will need some convincing that the danger is real. What if our kidnapper gets tired of waiting?"

"Then she'll probably kill us. We need to get out of here, Ben."

"How exactly are we going to do that?" Ben demands. "Bishop didn't get away when the drug dealers took her, and they weren't expecting her to walk in on them. Whoever grabbed us had a plan in place and was just waiting for me to call for a limo."

"Bishop might have made it out on her own. When I got there, she'd already partially sawed through one of the ties that was holding her. If chauffeur lady is planning to keep us for any length of time, she'll have to feed us. And unless she's fond of mopping up, she'll give us a chance to pee. We stay alert for our opportunity, and we take it. She was expecting the Playboy of the Western World, but I was an accidental acquisition. I learned a lot of moves in the academy and Bishop taught me more. Chauffeur won't be prepared for that. It will give us an advantage."

Ben shakes his head. "I hope so, John."

* * *

"Where's Nolan?" Grey demands, confronting Wolf near the stairs in the station. "He didn't show up at roll call."

"I'm working on the next stage of his assignment, but it isn't ready yet." Wolf's eyes flick around for a sign of his protégé. "He should be here. He didn't call?"

"No, and he doesn't answer his phone. I also tried to call his pal Ben McCree. I figured he might know where Nolan is, but he didn't pick up. Nolan made an arrest at a club last night. McCree was there, but the local division doesn't know where either of them went after the suspects were taken into custody. Chen and West haven't heard from him either. I have my problems with Nolan," Grey admits, "but I've never known him to be less than conscientious about being where he's supposed to be when he's supposed to be there."

"He's more than conscientious," Wolf responds. "Something is wrong."

"Yeah, it is," Grey agrees. "And we need to find out what."

* * *

"Nolan, are you in there?" Lucy shouts, banging on the sliding glass entrance to the guest house.

"There's no sign of anyone around," Santiago notes.

"We can check the big house," Lucy suggests. "If something broke in there, John - Officer Nolan - would have gone in to fix it. Maybe he had an accident."

After ringing the doorbell and knocking on the door, Santiago peers through the windows of the mansion while Lucy circles around the perimeter. "Anything?" Lucy asks on her return.

Santiago shakes her head. "No movement inside. They're not here, Chen. You rookies all know each other. Where would Nolan go after making an arrest?"

"When he had to work the next morning, home," Lucy insists.

* * *

"Did you see the cop who arrested the guys ripping off your customers and his friend leave?" Wolf queries the hastily assembled staff of Post Millennial.

"I did," the valet volunteers. "They came in an Uber, and I thought they might call another one, but instead, this limo pulls up to get them."

"Can you describe it?" Wolf asks.

"White, stretch, the kind with extra room in the back."

"Did you get a license plate number?"

"No, but I saw the driver. It was a woman, but she didn't look like a limo driver."

"Why not?" Wolf presses.

"The chicks who do that, usually have some muscle on them, from handling luggage. This one didn't have much. And she was made up like she was an actor who didn't have time to take her makeup off on the set before picking up her second job. A lot of actors moonlight. I've worked with some of them."

"All right, I'm going to need to talk to anyone else who saw the limo," Wolf announces. "I'll need as complete a description as possible."

* * *

"We have a little problem, Mr. McCree," Lady Chauffeur announces. "We are having difficulty getting McCree International to take us seriously. I need to remedy that."

"What are you going to do?" Ben asks, trying to control the quaver in his voice.

"For now, just take a few pictures of you with today's L.A. Times. It's an oldie but a goodie. But I'm afraid if that doesn't get their attention, I'll have to move on to harsher measures."

"What harsher measures?" John questions.

"Body parts," Chauffeur returns, as her makeup cracks slightly over her accustomed cheery smile. "I'll leave you to think about what you can spare, for a while. Ears and fingers are easiest to ship. And Officer Nolan - I may send a piece or two of you along as well - for good luck."

"Whose good luck would that be?" John inquires.

"Yours, of course," Chauffeur replies. "Because if I don't get the ransom I want for Mr. McCree, he's not leaving here alive, and neither are you. You might prefer an ear or two. Plastic surgeons can build you new ones. Fingers are much more complicated. And if you two don't behave yourselves, I might decide to go lower. I've always liked listening to sopranos. I'll send the pictures, and when I come back, I'll let you know if anything will have to come off."

As soon as their captor leaves, Ben turns to John. "We have to get out of here. Being beat up by a carjacker was bad enough, but I'm not losing my…"

"I'm not crazy about losing anything either," John agrees. "Next time she shows up, we'll put operation tiny bladder into motion."


	18. Chapter 18

The Way Back

Chapter 18

"Good news," Lady Chauffeur announces, "the valet at Post Millennial did an interview with KTLA. It's been confirmed that you two are missing. That should speed things along. But if it doesn't," she holds up a scalpel, "there's always this."

"If the valet at Post Millennial did an interview, he must have mentioned that we were last seen in your limo," Nolan points out.

"He did," Chauffeur agrees, "but it doesn't matter. My limo doesn't exist - at least not that you cops know of. My organization bought it out of salvage and rebuilt it just well enough to be convincing. It probably won't run more than a couple of thousand miles. We stole the plates, but apparently, no one saw them anyway."

"How did you know I called for a limo?" Ben wonders.

"Easy enough. We've been observing you for some time. We know you like to use LLS. We just hacked into their phone service until you called for a ride. I had one of my guys call to cancel, and I picked you up myself. That doesn't matter now, either. After McCree International forks over for you, we'll be changing our MO anyway."

John squirms in his chair, exaggerating his motion. "Ma'am unless you want to grab a mop, I need to use the restroom. A little alcohol and everything goes right through me."

"That must be inconvenient for your partner," Chauffeur notes.

"I don't usually drink on the job," John retorts, "but really, I have to go now."

Chauffeur sighs. "Fine, Officer Nolan. I'll send one of the boys in here to take you."

John counts 300, approximating five minutes after Chauffeur leaves before anyone appears. He's almost sorry he asked to use the facilities. The six-foot-four, heavily muscled thug, flips open an eight-inch blade to cut Nolan loose, before ushering his charge into a tiny lavatory with a clean but vintage toilet and pedestal sink.

"You better remember to put that down again," Thug urges as Nolan lifts the seat. He points to a scar on his arm. "The boss gets upset when anyone leaves it up."

"Thanks for the warning, Pal," John answers, unzipping. "It used to tick my ex-wife off when I did it too, but she never tried to cut me."

"The boss knows what she wants and makes sure everyone gives it to her. Best you and your friend remember that," Thug warns.

"Message received," John acknowledges, refastening his pants and wheeling around suddenly as he slams the seat down. He continues his motion raising a knee to Thug's groin before bringing a two-handed fist down on the back his doubled-over guardian's head. As Thug drops, John grabs the knife out of his hand and steps over the meaty pair of legs almost blocking the doorway.

"We have to get out before Chauffeur realizes that her pet mountain is missing," John puffs, cutting Ben's bonds.

"How?" Ben asks. "If we go up the stairs, she might see us."

"We aren't going up," John explains. "I saw a hatch for one of those old-fashioned cellar doors on my way to the bathroom. It was bolted so no one could get in, but there's nothing to keep us from getting out."

Ben works his hands and legs, trying to get some blood flowing. "Lead the way, Buddy."

"Wait," John says as they pass a partially open metal drawer in a workbench. "Bingo. My gun, my badge, and my cuffs. I had them on me when Chauffeur grabbed us. Maybe she was keeping them as trophies or to use in some future impersonation. You wouldn't believe the paperwork I'd have to go through for losing my gun and badge."

Ben's mouth gapes. "At a time like this, you're worried about paperwork?"

"If Grey were your watch commander, you'd be worried too. But here," he continues, moving on to the stout hatch, "help me with the bolt. From the rust on it, it's been in that position for years."

John blinks as he emerges into the L.A. sunlight, and Ben uses his hand to shield his eyes from the glare. "I wish our phones had been in that drawer with your cop stuff. Wallets would have been good too. Any idea where we are?"

"Fashion District," John offers, gazing at the surrounding buildings. "Bishop and I had calls here - mostly theft, drugs, and domestic abuse. I think that Chauffeur was keeping us in an abandoned warehouse. Looks like that's mostly what the buildings around us are. And we'd better get moving before she realizes we're gone." He points. "The station is in that direction. The good news is that there are a lot of patrols in this area. If we keep walking, we should run into one. And there's probably a BOLO out. They'll be watching for us."

"Right now I'd give anything for an Uber," Ben laments. "Almost anything. Not what Chauffeur wanted."

John lays an arm on his friend's shoulder. "With you there, Buddy."

* * *

"You shouldn't be out on the street with me Tim, but Captain Gross said everyone who could, needed to be looking for Nolan. What makes you think they'd be here?" Wolf asks, steering his shop through the most rundown section of the Fashion District."

Bradford scans the dilapidated buildings. "Isabel drug busts. Hell holes. Hiding places."

"There are a lot of those," Wolf agrees, "The homeless camp in some of them at night. Although if Nolan and McCree are in one, I don't know how we'd find them without a canvass. I guess we could start by asking those two guys up there if they've seen a limo. Not many of those in this neighborhood."

Bradford points through the windshield. "Nolan."

"Damn, you're right! And that's McCree!"

John waves wildly as he recognizes Wolf's shop, and Wolf pulls up in front of the two men. "Good to see you, Nolan; you too, McCree. But you look like hell. I should get you both to the hospital."

Nolan slams his palm against the car. "Screw that! You need to call for backup and go after the people who kidnapped us, Wolf. I've got the feeling they've done this before, and if we don't bring them in, they'll do it again. Get Dispatch on the line. I can tell you where they held us."

"John's right," Ben agrees.

"All right, both of you," Wolf acquiesces, but I'm calling in a medical unit too. The minute you and Ben identify the people who grabbed you, I'm turning you over to the paramedics."

"I can live with that," John allows.

"Sounds good to me," Ben accedes.

* * *

Chauffeur kicks a groaning Thug in the ribs. "I can't even trust you idiots to take a prisoner to piss. What the hell happened? Never mind. I don't have time for your excuses now. Get up! We need to get out of here before every cop in the city is on us."

A squad of L.A.P.D. bursts through the cellar door while the hammering of footsteps sounds from above. Chauffeur raises her hands and sinks to her knees, rolling her eyes. "This is what I get for trusting a man to do anything right. I should never hire anyone but women for my crew."

Nolan strides in front of her, looking down at the additional cracks forming on the heavily made-up face. "It's going to be a long time before you're going to have to worry about hiring anyone."


	19. Chapter 19

The Way Back

Chapter 19

Henry rushes in just as Nolan is taking a seat in a chair outside the emergency room. "Dad, are you all right?"

"Fine, son. Just waiting for the doctors to finish up with Ben. What are you doing here?"

"Dominique texted me that you and Ben went missing. Then when I got into L.A., her father told me where I could find you. Is Ben, OK?"

"The doctors said he will be. After all that's happened to him, I think he got a kick out of seeing the bad guys - and in this case a very bad gal - taken down."

"Dominque picked me up at the airport. She dropped me off here and went to find a place to park. She should be coming in soon."

"I don't suppose Sergeant Grey is any more kindly disposed to my son seeing his daughter."

"Actually, I think he almost smiled. Apparently, the FBI thinks that the kidnappers the L.A.P.D. arrested are implicated in cases they couldn't solve. He seemed to be proud that one of his rookies played a crucial role in bringing them down."

"Grey admitting he is proud of me? Are you sure you're not suffering from jet lag?"

"He didn't admit it; I just got the impression. So did Dominique. Here she is now," he adds, just as Ben emerges from the E.R. to join them.

"The gang's all here," Nolan announces, looking at Ben. "Dominique has brought Henry to fetch us."

"Ready to go home, Mr. McCree?" Dominique asks.

"As long as I don't have to do another sleepover in the guest house."

Nolan puts his arm around his friend's shoulders. "I think Henry has that privilege this time."

* * *

"Dad, why are you up?" Henry asks, rubbing his eyes.

"I need to go to the station and work on all the paperwork on the arrests of the kidnappers. And Wolf called last night. He said they found Ben's and my wallets and phones on two of the members of the kidnapping gang. Both men confessed and flipped on the lady chauffeur, so The D.A. isn't going to need our stuff for evidence. That's why we're getting it back."

"Was your license in your wallet?" Henry inquires.

"It was, and I'm grateful I won't have to replace it."

"But if you don't have it yet, I should drive you," Henry points out.

"No need. Tim Bradford's coming to get me. He's not back on full duty yet, but there's nothing to keep him from picking me up. And from what Wolf told me, it was Bradford's idea to look for Ben and me in the fashion district. He was tough on Lucy, but he's a good cop."

"Bishop was tough on you too, wasn't she?"

"She was, but I'm better for it. Anyway, Bradford should be here in a few minutes, and I need to be ready to go. Can you keep an eye on Ben until I get back? The doctor said he is going to be fine physically, but being kidnapped like that, especially after being car-jacked will be catching up to him. He might need someone to talk to - unless you have something planned with Dominique."

"I didn't plan anything. When I heard what happened, I just caught the first flight I could get to L.A. But if she's free, we could do a picnic or something, and this is a great place to have one."

"It is, isn't it?" John agrees. "OK, then. I think I hear Bradford pulling up. I'll see you later."

John's mouth gapes at the woman in the holding cell. "That's her?"

"It is, minus the makeup," Grey confirms.

John can't stop staring. "She's beautiful! Why would a woman want to hide it that way?"

"Maybe she wanted to make sure an identification would never stick," Grey speculates. "If that was her plan, it won't work. We photographed and printed her before and after her transformation. There'll be no doubt it's the same person."

"Why is she here?" Nolan wonders. "I would have thought she would be in the detention center, by now."

"The FBI wants to collect her. The fingerprints tie her to multiple unsolved kidnappings. They want to talk to you, too. You can do your paperwork until they get here. Bradford volunteered to help you. Until he's declared fit to be back on the street, he's going to be doing some in-house mentoring and working toward the sergeant's exam. And given that we're down not only him but Bishop as T.O.s, you rookies can use all the help you can get."

"Yes, Sir, I appreciate that. And I'm sure he'll make a great sergeant."

"He can start by kicking your ass. He's waiting for you in the break room. Get to it!" Grey orders.

"Yes, Sir."

* * *

John swipes his sleeve across his forehead. With any luck, his next T.O. may let him wear short ones. At least this is the last of the paperwork. He would have probably been at it for at least a couple of more hours without Bradford's help. Now he can finally return to the McCree compound, give Ben back his things, and spend some time with Henry.

When Bradford drops him off, John immediately notes a strange - and very expensive - car, parked in front of the big house. Ben must have visitors, a good sign. Even so, he'll still be wanting his wallet and his phone. According to what Henry said when John checked in, without them, Ben had been acting like he lost a body part. John gets it. He'd felt like that without his badge and gun. He has the entry code but knocks anyway. Henry opens the door. "Dad, they've been waiting for you."

John has little time to wonder who his son is talking about as he follows Henry to where Ben is sitting and talking with an older couple. John immediately recognizes them as Ben's parents.

Benjamin McCree, Sr. pushes up from a chair John knows would cost at least two months of his salary. "John Nolan! Ben tells me that you were largely responsible for extricating him from the kidnappers."

"I was extricating myself as well, Sir," John explains. "And we had a couple of lucky breaks. I'm grateful that everything worked out, but I was under the impression that you and Mrs. McCree were overseas.

"It more than worked out," Maeve McCree interjects. "When security at McCree International notified us of the ransom demand, Benji and I couldn't get on a plane fast enough. We would have paid anything, of course, to keep from losing our son, but you took care of the situation, young man."

As the L.A.P.D.'s oldest rookie, John appreciates being called a young man, but he just nods, as Ben Sr. takes over the narrative. "Ben told us the story, with your son here, filling in a few details. Fine boy."

"Yes, Sir, I like to think so."

Ben Jr. manages to open his mouth for the first time since John arrived. "My parents are going to be staying for a few days."

"Indeed," Ben Sr. confirms. "We have a lot of catching up to do."

John fishes Ben's wallet and phone out of his pockets. I just came to return these, and I'll leave you to your family time. Come on, Henry."

"Nonsense!" McCree, Sr. booms. "We have a feast in transit! Giardini's best, complete with wine from a McCree International vineyard. We are going to celebrate!"

"John, you want to help open a couple of bottles to air?" Ben asks, gesturing toward the kitchen.

"Sure," John agrees. "Are your hands still stiff from being tied to the chair? I've never known you to have trouble using a corkscrew."

"I just needed to tell you how much I feel like an idiot," Ben confesses. "You and the nun with the ruler were right. My father isn't exactly killing a fatted calf, but we've talked to each other more this afternoon than in almost two decades."

"So are you back in the arms of your family again?" Nolan asks.

"I'm not sure," Ben admits. "But now I understand how you feel about finding your place. Mine could never be chasing down bad guys. But for the first time in a long time, I feel like I'm on my way back to somewhere I belong."

Finis

A/N It's only two weeks until the premiere of season 2 here in the U.S. I'm anxious to see what canon has in store and start writing from there. See you all soon! Love, Sally.


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